


An unexpected reunion

by TheLostDisneyPrincess



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Anti Hero Elsa you have been warned, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Lemons, Magic, My God this ship, Oral Sex, Romance, Rough Sex, Smut, Travel, Violence, sadism in chapter 7, sassy hans, srsly, warnings for chapter 7
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-19 12:15:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 96,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1469416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLostDisneyPrincess/pseuds/TheLostDisneyPrincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hans appears in Elsa's bed chambers in the middle of the night, her thoughts run more towards murder rather then helping him take the throne of the Southern isles, but when his less then charming brothers intentions towards Arendelle and its queen are made clear, she has no choice but to help the wayward prince and travel to the Southern Isles with plans to crash his brothers coronation, but it doesn't go according to plan. The pair face magic, psychopaths, prophesy, capture and each other in an adventure to far off kingdoms and distant lands; where the pair slowly realise that just maybe, they are not that different after all.  Smut and violence warnings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I sit on the plush red velvet throne, my spine straight as an arrow as I consider the people below me as I sit before them, regal and imposing on the dais.  My imperious expression hides my complete and utter boredom swirling around inside myself as I sign yet another proclamation.  I glance around the throne room, the high vaulted ceiling allowing sunlight to come streaming through the arched stone windows, all of which look out onto Arrendelle, my kingdom, smoke puffing through the small cottage chimneys as normal people lived out their ordinary lives.  A cough from one of my ministers brings me back to the present. I glance to my right and see the Grand Duke Mikhail, one of my…less trusted advisors.  A portly man with greasy hair and a pretentious disposition, I had been looking forward to firing him for weeks.  Ah well, No time like the present.  My heart warms at the thought.  The chubby man coughs again, brandishing a piece of parchment paper in front of my face, waving it around like some sort of butterfly before he speaks in his droning voice which could put a hyperactive toddler to sleep. I roll my eyes.

“You’re Excellency, what is it now?” I ask in an exasperated voice. The Duke splutters in an insulted fashion, sending spit everywhere like a disgusting fountain. I swallow my repulsion and stare blankly into the chamber, not looking at him lest I retch.   I catch the eye of one of the guardsmen who guard the chamber, and nod almost imperceptibly.  He moves softly till he is positioned just behind Mikhail.  Something tells me he isn’t going to take my news very well.

“It’s a new tax I propose your majesty” he says, his voice now a flustered monotone.  I snatch it from his sweaty hands, scanning over it before beckoning to one of my attendants, handing them the proposed tax law. 

“There is no need for a new Tax; we are getting more than enough from our subjects as it is.  There is no need to make them pay more than they can bear.  This is the latest proposal in a long line; I am getting more then tired of you constantly forcing your frankly terrible proposals onto me.” The duke splutters again, growing red in the face, his limp moustache twitching. For the first time, I look at him in his beady little eyes, my bright blue eyes glowering at him.

“I say-“ he starts, his voice now quite high in outrage. I hold up a hand, silencing him.

“May I remind you that I am your Queen and you answer to me, not the other way round.  You are hereby dismissed.” I state in my cool voice.  The duke immediately drops to his knees and starts grovelling pathetically, like I had just offered him a death sentence rather than just taking away his job.   I beckon to the guard I had positioned behind the duke, he gestures to the one next to him; they nod and roll their eyes before helping the duke to his feet, not ungently. Mikhail had never exactly made himself beloved to the staff.  They escort him out of the front gates of the palace, much to the joy of everyone in the airy chamber who seem to breathe a collective sigh of relief.   I rest my elbow on the plush arm rest of the seat, resting my head in my fingers in a gesture of exasperation. Who the hell ran this country while I was too young to rule?!  If it was men like the Grand Duke, then no wonder our fair country was decades behind in trade and technology.  Our coffers were full, but only through several hard years of taxes,  not to mention I had just singlehandedly destroyed our usual summer crops with our…unplanned winter holiday.   I had to restore some authority to the Monarchy after three years of bumbling politicians running our fair country.   We had some serious repairs to do, and getting rid of ministers like Mikhail was a start.  I stand, everyone in the room immediately drops to one knee like puppets.

“I shall retire to my chambers for the day, I will look over the rest of these later” I say, waving to the pile of parchment.  My ministers behind me utter small cries of protest.   I mentally sigh; there was a long night ahead of me.  It would take me until dawn to look through this amount of paperwork.   I rise from the throne and everyone in the room bows low as I sweep out the door.  As I walk down the corridor flanked by guards as usual, I am mentally going through my head about which engagements I can wriggle out of _. Perhaps Anna could_ -damn, I completely forgot.  Anna left yesterday for the Kingdom of the Sun.  My mouth tugs at the corners as I remember the fiery argument.

_“Elsa, I have to go!” Anna whines, her voice high as she shakes her head, her customary plats swinging from side to side in frustration.  I sigh with exaggerated patience._

_“Anna, this is too sudden.  You’re a princess; you can’t just up and leave!” I say in my deceptive state of calm. I don’t mention that part of the reason I don’t want her to go is that I need her to help shoulder the burden of royal duties.  She is much more of a ‘people person’ then I am._

_“But it’s for Rapunzel’s baby shower! She asked for me and Kristoff specifically! It would be rude not to attend!” Anna complains, her high voice set an octave or two higher than usual in her angry state._

_“Anna, your wedding Is in three months!  You can’t just go gallivanting off, there are things to plan-“ I begin to say when she cuts me off._

_“Besides, you’re always so busy with your papers, and when I come back we will do something together, okay?” Anna pleads_. 

For once, I lost an argument. Kristoff, Anna and Olaf had gone to the kingdom of the sun, leaving me alone.  Well, not alone.  I glance behind me at the ever present retinue of maids and guards before I roll my eyes.   I reach the doors to my quarters and one of my guards stand to attention and open it for me. I give him a gracious smile before sailing through, my snowflake train billowing behind me. Before I close the doors, I pause on the threshold. 

"Thank you, none of you shall be needed for the remainder of the day.” I say shortly, they all bow before I quickly shut the doors.   I breathe a sigh of relief. Today was a good day; the new ministers I brought in to replace the fossils previously in charge recognise my authority and bring fresh new ideas for Arrendelle, but my advisors were still predominantly ancient and from the days of my father.   I sit down at my desk, the mountain of papers thinning.  One more night and I should have caught up!  I smile at the novel thought before I frown, crinkling my nose in concentration as I read the proclamation, my head propped up in my hands as I try to focus.

“ _Free education for boys under the age of 16 blah blah blah blah”_ I think to myself as I read.  I flick through the wad of proposals before tearing them up, throwing them in front of me and allowing a jettison of ice to shoot from my hands, freezing them mid-air before they clatter to the ground and smash in a satisfactory manner.   I am so unbelievably over doing paperwork.  But who else can I trust to do it? Certainly none of my incompetent ministers.  Half of them want me to sign anything they throw at me, the other Half wish I had never survived the run in with my sisters ex-fiancé.  I shiver when I think of Hans, the man who nearly killed me.  I stand up and throw myself onto the bed, I curl up on my side wrapping my arms around myself as I remember that morning.  I thought I had killed my sister.  The pain I felt comes flooding back, the guilt, the sorrow and the self-loathing return with it. I ruthlessly push it away.  
  _“I didn’t kill her.  They were only his lies.”_ I tell myself firmly.  I remember his clear green eyes and fair complexion looking at me with wide eyed innocence.  I make a mental note to look at that report we got from our spy in the southern isles. I really should have a long time ago, but I have been so preoccupied with my sister’s wedding and my kingdom to worry about it.  I promise myself I will look at it later today, it’s time we found out what happened to our Hans. _In fact…_ a thought strikes me and I stand, my plat swinging onto my shoulder as I stride to my messy desk.  I sort through the piles of detritus till I found what I was looking for. In a neat manila folder was the report from our spy in the Southern Isles.  I quickly open it and scan the spidery handwriting.  When I get half way through, I start in surprise. I read the sentence again, and again.

 _“…I am aware that Your Highness sent Prince Hans home in one of our ships under armed guard. However, much to the consternation of the royal family Prince Hans never arrived back in the Southern Isles…”_ Never arrived back? That surely cannot be right…this was definitely something to chase up.   I quickly write a letter to our captain of the guard, ordering to double the sentry on the harbour and in the palace, and to make sure to look out for someone of his description. I shiver when I remember him, his voice, his gloved hands… I shake myself and stalk over to the window, twilight was descending on my beautiful Arrendelle, the sky turning pink then a dusky purple, the stars emerging in the darkness, candles twinkling in the homes of my people.  I watch, still in silence as I see the dim twilight fade to darkness, punctuated with shining pinpricks of light.  I shake myself and run a hand through my snowy white hair, before turning away from the view of my beloved kingdom, wrapping my arms around myself before I walk over to the bed, collapsing on it.  I stare at the ceiling, absentmindedly gesturing with my hands, feeling my rush of power gather at my fingertips, cold and frozen as I make little butterflies made of ice, which flutter towards the sculpted ceiling. I miss being able to wield my power freely, not that I could before, but at the ice castle.  I don’t have to hide my power anymore, but I’m not stupid enough to demonstrate it in front of my people.  They might have accepted me, but they fear me and my powers. The odd demonstration like creating a temporary winter for the people to skate in was fine, but anything beyond harmless would instantly garner negative attention. I rest my hands on my chest, watching the four small butterflies I had created flitter out the window. I feel a certain sadness that they shall melt by the time morning comes, but such is the nature of the power I wield.  
  
“Very pretty.”

A familiar low sweet voice speaks out of the darkness. My eyes widen in shock and panic; I quickly stand up and find myself face to face with a familiar pair of sparkling green eyes.  We are both still for a moment as I flick my eyes over him in horror.  Even in my confused state, I dimly notice how attractive he is. His emerald eyes are set against fair skin; high cheekbones with a slight pink tint to them, eyebrows like angel wings frame his green eyes, his long eyelashes casting shadows on his skin.

Suddenly, I realise the situation, and an abrupt bubble of anger bursts inside me.

_“Elsa was preferable”  
_

 I feel the beginnings of a blizzard stir my hair across my shoulders before I slam my hand forward in the cold air, my powers flowing through me like liquid, meeting to rise the anger inside me as An ice spike emerges from my open palms, deadly sharp and pressing against Han’s throat.  He backs up against the wall of the room where I get up from the bed, my eyes narrowed, fear no longer running through my veins but pure, utter, enveloping hatred, not icy like the powers I wield, but scalding like fire.  I allow the spike to still next to his pulse, I’m going to kill him, but…slowly.   
He raises his gloved hands in mock surrender, a smirk on his pink lips.

“Nice to see you too Elsa.”  He says lecherously.  I widen my eyes in mock surprise.

“Do you have a death wish?” I ask sweetly, my voice laced with venom. I allow the ice to graze the fair skin at his neck.  He laughs.

“aw, didn’t you miss me?” He asks in his rich voice as his eyes lightly flick over my silk clad body.  Oddly, I feel myself getting flushed from his heated regard, not helping the liquid anger inside me, the thrill that I was finally going to kill him, once and for all.  The main reason I didn’t murder him isn’t here.  Before, I would have risked diplomatic incident, but now... I have the perfect excuse. The second time he tried to assassinate me, it is reasonable I defend myself. 

“Funnily enough, no.” I say flatly.  His eyes come to rest on my bare shoulders.

“I certainly missed you.” He says lecherously before giving me a salacious wink.  I arch an eyebrow, impressed at his bravado, my ice slowly pressing into his neck, allowing a small bead of blood to well up and roll down his neck satisfactorily.

_Elsa was preferable…_

“How did you even get in here?” I am unable to prevent myself from asking. He shrugs gracefully.

“your guards really are pathetic.” He says simply. I make a mental note to oversee the training of the sentries, the point is to stop men like him getting into my chambers.  Having gotten the only answer I require, it is with a leap of dark joy that I acknowledge I have no further use for him, my heart is sounding in my ears as I allow the blade of ice to dig deeper into the skin.  I give a short burst of black laughter as I still the now blood covered frozen knife.

"You want to know the reason I didn’t kill you before?” I ask, the dark anger inside of me blooming.  Hans is unable to answer, so I continue on unbidden.

“My sweet sister, the one you tried to kill, intervened on your behalf. But unfortunately for you, she isn’t here at the moment.” I say in dark innocence, the blizzard behind us howling as the temperature drops lower, frost beginning to gather on the floorboards. I’m so close…So close now…

“any last words?” I ask, my voice sickly sweet as I withdraw the ice blade a fraction, allowing him to speak.  He looks at me, pain and an odd seriousness in his eyes. The panic which I expect to see is not there.  What he says next, he says simply.

“Arrendelle is in trouble.”

the blizzard stills behind me, the blood lust inside wars with my curiosity and my duty to my kingdom.  My sense of responsibility wins out, I dissipate the Ice blade. Hans falls to his knees, quickly taking out a white handkerchief and staunching the blood which flows out of his neck. I give him a few minutes, regaining control over myself before I left my hands again, confident I won’t lose control like that once more.  He struggles to his feet, his skin pale from blood loss, yet his green eyes sparkle.

“Is that anyway to greet an old friend? I’m cut, really.” He says sarcastically.  Much to my shock, rather than cower at his very treacherous situation, he firmly takes my hand by the wrist and moves it back to my hip.  However, he doesn’t let go of it, his thumb lightly drawing circles on the heel of my palm, a strangely arousing sensation. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remember there is a pressure point there.

“I can’t think straight with you pointing your hands at me.” He explains, his eyes meeting mine. 

“I suggest you let go of my hand before I encase you in ice.” I say, my voice slightly rougher then I would have liked.  He smirks again before he drops my hand.  He strolls over to my crowded desk.

“My, you are going through these aren’t you?  Not going to lie, I’m impressed.” He says, turning back towards me, his clear green eyes impassive.  I cross my hands over my chest, raising an eyebrow.

“Still interested in the politics of Arrendelle? Didn’t you learn your lesson last time?” I snarl.  He leans against the desk, his arms folded over his chest.  A small smile plays across his lips.

“Well, no.  I never exactly received punishment.” He says, reaching behind him and waving the Manilla file before he drops it back onto the brimming desk.

“How did you manage to avoid going back to the Southern Isles?” I ask, a regrettable amount of curiosity tinging my voice.   He waves his finger at me in a gesture of reprimand.

“I’m not spilling my secrets.” He says arrogantly. I give a short chuckle.

“So you paid the crew off.” I say flatly.  He smiles.

“You’re smarter then I gave credit for.” He says, a faint tone of surprise in his voice.  I ignore the back handed compliment, remembering last time I saw this repulsive man; he was swinging a sword at the back of my head.

 

“I suggest you get to the point before I call my guards…If you’re lucky.” I say, smiling predatorily.  His mouth quirks at the corner before striding towards me, eating up the distance between us until he is looming over me, at least a head taller than I am.

“If I’m lucky?” He says, his tone suggestive as his warm gaze washes over my face.  Unable to deny the small tingles his close proximity sends through me, I glower up at him. He tried to take my throne, kill me and my sister and he is trying to flirt with me.   He really is unbelievable.

“If you’re unlucky, then you have to deal with me.” I say flatly. He smirks down at me enticingly, his height really was irritating.

“I look forward to it.” He smiles down at me cheerfully. I raise a dark eyebrow before allowing an ice spike to grow out of my upturned hand. 

“You sure about that?” I ask sweetly.  Hans laughs, a noise which pools at my lower spine.

“minus the ice.” He says pleasantly.  I point the ice spike at his heart.

“You have about a minute to explain what the hell you think you’re doing here.” I say softly.  He smiles.

“Ever the gentle one aren’t you?” He says mockingly.

“55…” I say, pressing the spike into his jacket front.

“Alright alright, I have a…partnership I would like to put to you.” He says.  I stop pressing the ice into his chest, looking up at him, incredulous.

“If you think I am interested in any sort of deal with you after half the stuff you have done, you are sadly mistaken.” I say, my tone icy. He laughs.

“Don’t be so sure Elsa.” he says smugly.

“40…” I say, pressing the blade of ice further.

“well, seeing as I don’t have long to explain, let’s just say that I need your help.”  These words make me still the ice shard again.  I chuckle.

“Does it look like I am liable to help you?” I say in disbelief. He smiles.

“ah, but you wouldn’t just be helping me.” He says inexplicably. I hesitate before sighing and allowing the blade of ice to draw back into my hand. 

 

“Talk.” I say shortly.  He rubs his hand over the small hole in his jacket front.

“not much of a conversationalist are you?” He asks, brushing an imaginary fleck of dust off his sleeve. 

“I’m not that eager to talk to my attempted murderer.” I say coldly, folding my arms over my chest.

“attempted” he says, grinning, showing rows of perfect white teeth. Why couldn’t he look like the evil bastard he was?

“How is that meant to work in your favour?” I ask in disbelief at his paper thin argument, if you could call it that.   He shrugs elegantly.

“You’re still alive.” He says cheerfully.

“No thanks to you.” I snap.  He raises his hand to his heart in a gesture of mock hurt.

“Oh, Ouch.”  He says sarcastically. In frustration, I channel my power out through my finger tips and into the wall, a flurry of ice shards clatter against the dark blue wallpaper.

“Unless you get to the point, and quickly, The next ones will hit you.” I say flatly.

“alright, If you want me to be blunt.  Just trying to protect your delicate sensibilities” He says sarcastically.

“delicate sensibilities-“ I exclaim, but am cut off by a withering look from the green eyes.

“I’m explaining remember? It means that you don’t talk. For just one minute. Can you handle that?” He says patronizingly.  I glare at him icily. It’s a shame he had my attention, I would love to blast him in ice right now. 

“Good.  Now, what do you know about the Southern Isles?” He asks casually.  I tilt my head in confusion, where was THIS going?

“Not much I’m afraid.  The King died-my condolences” I say in mock sympathy.  Hans laughs.

“Not necessary, I’m ecstatic.”  He says cheerfully.  I widen my eyes at him, surely he can’t mean that.

“Don’t give me that doe eyed look of shock Your Highness.” He says, putting sarcastic emphasis on my royal title.  I open my mouth to tell him to go to hell when he speaks again.

“And of my brothers?” He continues smoothly.  I shrug.

“The oldest, Dominic is about to ascend to the throne. I got an invitation to the coronation.” I say helplessly.  I really haven’t had time to study the neighbouring kingdoms; this was Anna’s area of expertise. He laughs.

“Oh, very subtle of him.  Clever.” He murmurs half to himself. I raise a dark eyebrow.

“What was?” I ask, unable to hide my confusion.  He laughs.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” He says patronizingly. Unable to prevent myself, I quickly raise my hand and flick it upwards, a sudden blast of icy wind summons from my fingertips, picks Hans up and throws him against the back wall. I smile sweetly as he glowers, shaking himself like a cat that was thrown in water.

“Ouch.” He says simply.  I smile in response.

“Don’t patronise me.” I say flatly.  He shrugs as he leans against the wall, this time, I walk towards him, my right hand out stretched and ready.  I stop about an arm’s length away from him.

“A gentler soul was never created” he says, his voice heavy with irony.

“I suggest you get to the point for your sake.” I say flatly.

“If you insist.  Long story short ‘Your Majesty,’ I’m going to depose my brothers.” He says casually. I am unable to prevent a short burst of laughter.

“I expect nothing less.” I say drolly.  He raises an eyebrow at my contemptuous laughter.

“Kindly withhold your mirth, this could affect you to.” He says seriously, I am unable to prevent a small giggle.  Is he insane? Probably.  And yet I can detect no hint of madness in his eyes.  Noting the death glare he sends at my helpless laughter, I try and quell it to a chuckle and regain impassivity.

“I’m listening” I say, still smiling at his totally mad request. Why would I help him with anything, let alone get him a crown.  God knows what he would do if he had an army at his disposal.

 

“Well, my darling brothers are shaping out to be rather…bad leaders.” He says slowly, moving away from the wall, making me turn to face him.

“what, and you would do a better job?”  I say with disdain.  He smiles down at me.

“Elsa, a pin cushion would do better job of running a country then my brothers.” He says pleasantly.  Despite my hatred for him, I am unable to prevent a small smile.

“You still haven’t given your hair brained explanation as to how this affects me.”  I remind him, He smiles again. If I didn’t know him so well, I would say it was charming.

“I’ve seen battle plans.  The minute my repulsive excuse of a brother gets the crown on his head, they’re going to invade.” He says flatly.  I start in surprise before once more regaining control of my reactions. I tilt my head to the side, thinking. If what he says is true- and that’s a big if-then it could very well be a disaster for Arrendelle. Our army hadn’t been used in years, no one had tried to take us over since the days of the Old Kings, and not even I could defeat an army… But what was there to say that once Hans got the throne he wouldn’t do the same thing?

“I am prepared to be much,” He pauses to loop his hand around my waist and press me to him.  I don’t struggle, merely glare up at him. “kinder then they would be.” He says suggestively. I glower at him coldly, his body radiating heat.  It registers that at some time we had changed places, My back was now against the wall. Oddly, I’m irritated by this, it somehow gives him more control over the encounter.

“if you don’t get your arm off my waist in the next 5 seconds, ill freeze it off.”  I say pleasantly. He laughs before letting me go; However, it does nothing to distract me from his distracting warmth as he places his hand next to my head, more than ever demonstrating our height difference.   I imagine he does this deliberately in an attempt to intimidate me.  I hold my ground, the cold wall against my back conflicting with the heat radiating from him.  I ruthlessly force my mind to focus.  His warm gaze flicks over my upturned face as I cross my arms over my chest, trying to create a barrier between us.

“And I promise you Your Majesty, that invasion would just be the start.” He says inexplicably.  I am torn between asking him what he means and a strong feeling that I don’t want to know. I shake my head irritably.

“And what guarantee is there that if you become King you won’t do the exact same thing?!” I ask coldly.  He smiles.

“You have my word.” He says confidently.  I am unable to prevent a small incredulous chuckle.

“Oh, I know how reliable that is.” I say, my voice heavy with sarcasm.

“When have I ever broken my word!” he demands almost petulantly. I open my mouth to say what I am sure would be a considerable list when I realise that he is actually right. He has never broken a promise.

“In between the attempted assassinations, manipulation and trying to depose me, at least you never broke an agreement.”  I say dryly.

“That’s the spirit!” he says sunnily, his green eyes sparkling into my own.

“Let me get this straight.  You want me to go with you, my would be assassin, to the Southern Isles, were you want me to help get you the throne, all because you say with no hard evidence that your brothers will invade and the only thing binding you not to do the same thing is the promise of a sociopath.” I say in disbelief.   Saying it out loud, it sounds crazy, but do I really have a choice?  I can’t muster an entirely new trained army that quickly, and we certainly couldn’t withstand a siege, not with our food supplies being so low after the unplanned winter.   He nods.

“Pretty much.” He says casually. 

“I’ll think about it.” I say flatly.  He studies my face closely, I find myself getting heated from the closeness of his regard, his face distractingly close to mine.

“What, that’s it?  You’re not going to tell me to stay away from your sister or-“ he begins to say, I cut him off with an impatient wave.

“I would, But Anna isn’t here.” I say bluntly, I go to slip under his arm which is braced against the wall, but he grabs my wrist and tugs me back to the same spot, pressing my hand against his chest, his emerald eyes shining into my own, a smirk playing around his pink lips.

“How delightful!” he says teasingly.  I stare unflinchingly into his clear green eyes.

“What did she ever do to you?” I snap, unable to prevent my irritation at his evident dislike of my sister.  Considering what he did to her, I’d say she has more right for hatred.  He notices my annoyance which just makes him smile wider.

“Too nice.” He says simply.  I raise my eyebrows.

“I think she has more right to complain, do you have any idea about what you did to her?!” I snarl.  He sighs theatrically, rolling his eyes.

“Elsa, what I did was for her own good.” He says coolly. I laugh darkly.

“Explain how you got to that conclusion?” I say, my voice dripping with venom.

“Do you really think that she could go through life being that trusting?” He says casually.  I shake my head irritably.

“Wow, your right.  She really should thank you for taking her heart and stomping on it before nearly killing her.” I say sarcastically.  He grins cheerfully.

“I’m glad you see it my way.” He says brightly, ignoring the irony in my voice.  I try and ease my pale wrists out of his grasp, which although not painful is unbreakable.

“I suggest you let go of me.” I say flatly, my voice devoid of emotion. He leans down, his lips lightly brushing my ear, making me shiver.

“Why?” he whispers, blowing warm air into my ear, sending tingles all through me.   I force my voice to remain even.

“Because if you don’t, I’ll act on my instincts.” I say coldly. He laughs.

“Sounds promising” He murmurs.

“Sorry to disappoint, but they’re leaning more towards murderous.” I say bluntly, not acknowledging that my instincts were in fact sending completely different signals through my body.  I wrench back control of myself.  This is _Hans_.  Annoyingly, rather than repulse me as planned, the thought of who he is just makes it harder to focus.  I mentally rap myself over the wrist for this inexplicable reaction. He chuckles in response to my cold demeanour.

“You’re a terrible liar.” He remarks casually, straightening as he looks down at me.  I glower up at him with all the ice I can muster before smiling sweetly.

“Get out.” I say, my voice cloying.  He sighs regretfully before releasing my wrists.   His gaze rakes up my figure until his green eyes rest on my own. A smile tugs at his mouth.

“always this icy?” He asks nonchalantly.

“yes.” I respond shortly.  He laughs before seizing my right hand and bringing it to his mouth, lightly brushing his lips over the back of it.  Rather than release it as expected, he turns it over and unexpectedly traces over the heel of my palm with his tongue in a burning circles. I am unable to prevent a gasp before I wrench my hand back, my face colouring.

“Bastard” I snarl.  He smiles at me.

“I try.” He says smugly before striding towards the door. He places his gloved hand on the brass doorknob before looking back at me.

“So, what do you say?” he asks caustically.  I roll my eyes at his confidence.  Much as I hate to admit it, we both know I had no choice. If there was threat of invasion, I need to do what I can. 

“It was a grudging yes.” I say wearily.  I feel a headache coming on.  He grins at me arrogantly.

“That’s my girl” he says sweetly. 

“I’m not your anything, although I may be your murderer if you say that again.” I say coldly.  He laughs.

“Good to see you again Elsa.” he says, his green eyes twinkling in the dim evening light of the room before he slips out the room, the door shutting with a click.  Immediately, my powers which I had been holding back burst out of me, covering the room in white snow.   I sigh before waving my hand tiredly, the snow is picked up by an icy wind and blown out the window.   I fall onto the bed, exhausted. I grab a pillow and hold it over my face in a futile attempt to block out the world, I groan into the soft linen.  
“ohhh goddd”

**Hans POV**

That went well.

I stride down the warren of corridors, inwardly thanking god that the palace was beginning to fall asleep as night beckoned.  I thoughtfully crack my knuckles through the gloves before I realise what I’m doing and make myself stop.  That was such a bad habit.  I glance around at the non-descript hallways, all painted a disgustingly happy shade of blue. I try and remember the way to the room, I sigh.  Would it be too much if the corridors didn’t look the same?  _Aha, found it_. I lightly turn the brass doorknob, opening the door softly before I slip inside, shutting it quickly. I lean against the oak before laughing into the perpetually cold room, my breath leaving small patches of fog in the freezing air, triumphant.  I did it. I had convinced the Ice Maiden to help me.  I chuckle again when I remember her expression when she saw me. Shock, anger and pure hatred all combine in her beautiful face, her blue eyes flashing with fury. To be honest, exactly the reception I was expecting. 

“Well no, “I softly say into the cold room “She didn’t kill me the instant she saw me.”  Despite threatening to murder me on more than one occasion, she had accepted to help me. 

God give me strength.

I have no idea how I was going to deal with her, my usual methods of control are worth nothing; she is just as well versed in manipulation as I am. I sigh, I need to think of something. I glance around the familiar room which none of the sisters had entered since our last little…adventure together. The chaise lounge was covered in dust, the window had been boarded up and the fire place still retained the remains of the fire I had extinguished when Anna was freezing to death. The result was cold, dark and sombre, just to my tastes.  It suited me just fine, I never lit fires or open curtains anyway.  I laugh again as I imagine Elsa’s reaction if she ever found out I was staying in the palace.  I really don’t know how anyone hadn’t thought of it before; there were so many rooms no one ever entered.  It was easy to slip past her pitiful guards and servants, giving me effectively free movement around the castle.   I cross the room to the dark chaise lounge; I pause, imagining Elsa strewn across it, the dark upholstery contrasting beautifully with her pale skin, her half lidded blue eyes glinting with lust.  I smile at the image before I shake myself.  _No._ I tell myself firmly.  I need to keep lust out of the equation, it would just complicate things. _Still, no harm in thinking about it…_ part of me whispers.   I shake my head, there’s a lot of harm in thinking about it. I need to remember who she is, what she is capable of doing, even though that doesn’t seem to repulse my over active libido. Another memory flashes through my tired mind, Elsa again, power pressing through her fingertips, blue eyes narrowed and flashing as one of my men is held against the wall, ice to his throat whilst another is nearly pushed off the balcony.  Her eyes show no remorse nor guilt for what she is doing, primeval instincts of survival taken over.  I shiver, I can’t leap into bed with THAT, although my far too eager sex drive wouldn’t mind trying. 

“Besides,” I say aloud into the empty room. “She would impale me on ice faster than I could slide my hands between her legs.” I mutter before I sink down onto the dark velvet couch, lying down on it as I rest my hands on my chest as I stare at the black ceiling, my right hand lightly tracing a gloved finger across the familiar scars. 

She only accepted my proposal because I told her of my brothers plans for invasion-which I wasn’t lying about.  Arrendelle has many resources, ports and fertile land, not to mention its queen.  Elsa really had no idea, not only could she be used as an extremely effective weapon, but her beauty was known throughout the kingdoms, almost as famous as her powers. I shudder to think about what would happen if my brothers ever got their hands on her.  It would appear she hasn’t exactly moved on from our previous encounter, she clearly hasn’t forgiven me for what fate nearly befell her and her sister. She doesn’t trust me, not that I can blame her.  She doesn’t understand, this is my right.  I’m the 13th in line for the throne in my own kingdom, my repulsive excuses for brothers got the crown just because they are older, I have been studying to rule my entire life while they were out whoring or drinking.   Dominic, Eon, Edward, William, Nikolai, Gregory, Peter, Eveard, Oberon, Dietrich, Luca and Alexi.  Luckily, Peter and Eveard were still in prison in the Kingdom of the Sun for stealing the princesses crown, which just leaves 10.  None of the 12 understood me, and I didn’t understand them. Unlucky brother 13. My childhood wasn’t just punctuated by occasional violence or taunting’s, they were akin to torture. I realise I am gripping my left wrist and make my right hand ease.   
The oldest, Dominic is who I really hate, and vice versa. He is going to have so much power, so much authority, yet he knows nothing of ruling, only of mindless violence. That crown should be mine.  
“ _I don’t know why you spend so much time studying; you’re never going to be king.”_   The mocking voice of Dominic speaks out of my mind; I shake my head against it.  No, I need to control myself…

I shiver as I remember the scars across my stomach from a sword blade, the result of one of three assassination attempts, one from Dominic, One from my father and the other was from Eon.  I don’t know why they bothered, I wasn’t a threat. Luckily, unlike them, I had actually showed up for fencing lessons.  My father tried to kill me after I had refused to marry the princess of his choosing, although by that stage, I was desperate to escape the prison of a castle. I still had the burns on my right arm from where his men had lit my room on fire in the hope I would be trapped inside.  I hadn’t lit a fire since.  The third attempt from Eon was rather more pure luck that I lived, there was enough poison in the wine to kill a horse, but somehow I survived.  It was then I realised that it was my destiny to live on, to become king.  I had lain in a dark room for 4 months not on physician’s orders, but my own violation. Naturally, no one in my family sent a doctor.  Four months of nothing but thoughts of revenge and hatred, and when I left that room, I left a manipulative revenge hungry prince.  In fact, the only reason I left the room was to come to the coronation.    
As much as she probably regrets the fact I came, Dominic, Eon and Dietrich were going to come to the coronation with desires to…forcefully woo her.   I roll my eyes at the thought, they were happy to be lead around by their pricks rather than actually think things through.  Raping the Queen of Arrendelle would cause major diplomatic incident, not to mention that Elsa wouldn’t have even let them get close before encasing them in blocks of ice, not that her powers were known at the time.  My short chuckle releases a puff of fog into the frigid air. None of them would have had a chance. Thankfully, I managed to detain them from going due to a little deviousness with the invitations. The 12 shared everything, including women.  I shiver as I remember stumbling upon raped and tortured whores inside the palace. Far from disapproving, my beloved father encouraged my psychopathic brothers, his logic that they would be strict rulers.  Not for the first time, it crosses my mind that my father was probably quite mad.  
I shiver again when I think of the fate that would befall Elsa should they successfully invade Arrendelle.  They wouldn’t kill her, not something so valuable.  They would however, damage her. Oddly, the thought of this makes me furious.  I start in surprise, I didn’t think I would care let alone…get protective.    Well, whatever that was, it has to go before we go to the Southern Isles.  If something happens to her (unlikely) I would need to be able to continue in my plans without getting distracted.

The throne was my right, and Elsa will give it to me, but she is far too volatile, far too headstrong for me to rely on.  No, I need to have control over her, at the moment she wields power over me, all she needs to do is say No and I would be reduced to begging, something my extra enhanced pride simply could not stand.  I need to find a way to manipulate her, to exert some sort of power.  Blackmail? No, as effective as it is I have nothing on her, she is far too clean.  Why can’t she be more like the Princess of Elmira, who would happily leap into bed with anyone with a title?  Not like Ms. Ice Maiden, who was probably more frigid then the ice she would blast anyone who tried with her. 

"No, The Queen of all things pure,” I say, putting a disdainful tone on the last word “would never do anything incriminating or unscrupulous.” I say, almost in pity.  Unscrupulous is far more fun than that good girl rubbish she is a poster girl for.

I sit bolt upright as a thought strikes me.  _But what about the Elsa who froze an entire country?_ I laugh delightedly into the freezing room.  Something tells me that she wouldn’t mind a little bad behaviour.  I remember the look of fury and lust on her lovely face when I lightly licked her palm; something tells me there is molten passion buried very, very deep under all that ice and hostility.  Rather than fight temptation and keep her at arm’s length, I would seduce her. My libido is immediately enamoured with the idea, it would be a challenge, but totally worth it. I am used to bedding girls until they’re reduced to a begging lustful wreck, I would just need to sleep with her and she would be in the palm of my hand.  Especially since she is very likely an unexperienced virgin, all I would need to do is give her a bit of pleasure now and then and she would be completely docile, sort of like licentious pet.  I am unable to withhold a smile at the thought. Besides, it would hardly be a chore, my blood stirs at the thought of her naked and underneath me, her hair falling over her shoulders, finally freed of that stupid braid she wears it in. Even if she really was the frigid bitch she acts like, I can easily just use the threat of telling everyone we slept together and blackmail her with that. I smile happily, a beautiful all-too-haughty virgin was going to be under my control, all that I have to do is bed her.   
I simply can’t wait.  

 **Elsa’s POV.**  
I add another icicle to the numerous ones which are hanging from the rafter of the ceiling above me, trying to assuage my frustration. God, I am going to have to spend time with the one person I truly hate. 

 _If you hate him…_ a small voice inside my head whispers. 

 _Of course I do._ I tell it firmly, the words seem unconvincing even to myself.  I am unable to rid myself of the feeling of pleasure his remembered caresses invoke, causing shivers to run down me.  I growl in frustration before allowing another icicle to shoot from my palms.  This is just what the bastard wants, to confuse me so he can control me.  Well no, I won’t let him, although I mightn’t have a choice, my body seems to have made up its mind on that count.   I need to fight back with something, I need to find a weak spot so I can take control, so I can give him his stupid kingdom and never see him again. 

_Do you really want that Elsa-_

the same irritating voice whispers inside of me.  “ _Yes!”_ I inwardly shout, afraid of the small truth emerging in me.  I sigh, I need to focus and not let him get to me like this. What can I use against him? His brothers? Anna had told me once that he was resentful his brothers were getting the throne over him. He is the 13th brother, what does he expect?  I sigh, that would never do, I need another pressure point.  It’s infuriating that despite all the bastard has done, I find him attractive, and, though I daren’t admit it to myself, very tantalising. His casual insolence which I get from no one else, his audacity in his advances.  His very…tempting advances.   
 I sit bolt upright in the bed, a small thought takes root inside my mind and grows. 

“oh no.  Uh Uh. No way.” I say aloud, trying to be firm but my words ring hollow.  _Surely I can’t… Not him_ … the sensible, rational part of my mind is screaming, it’s quickly drowned out by the lustful dark part of me.  Rather than hide from the idea, I face it.  Rather than resist temptation and keep him at arm’s length, I would seduce him.   _No, No, No_! Half of me is screaming, abhorring this idea, shrinking away from it.   It goes against everything I believe in, this man tried to kill me and my sister and take my crown…This is so wrong.  I can’t, I can’t do that to Anna, to myself. 

_But, you could do it to Hans…_

A voice in my mind speaks suggestively, I shake my head, my white hair whipping around my forehead from the force.  I can’t, it’s so…immoral. 

_When has that ever stopped you before?  Let it go remember?_

The voice whispers enticingly. Absentmindedly, I lightly wave my hands at the ceiling, the ice dissolving into snow which falls around me, landing in my hair and getting caught in my eyelashes.  What if I didn’t have to go all the way to sex? Perhaps if I was to use sex as a temptation, his huge ego would leap at the chance.  Yes, withholding rather than succumbing was the answer…the ice maiden in me is much more comfortable with that, although the part of me that is strangely stimulated by him isn’t happy with this idea, at least, not as happy as it was when sex with him was on the table.  No, the idea of offering something then taking it away just as quickly appeals to me, especially since its Hans. 

_Only problem is Elsa, there’s no guarantee that you would be able to stop yourself-_

the same irritating voice speaks inside me, I bat it away irritably.   I’m the queen of self-control; no one-especially not Hans- is able to break the ice shield I have built around myself. 

_You want him to-_

Why does that voice never shut up?!  I don’t want him to do anything of the sort thank you very much.  
I laugh into the cold room, my breath leaving small patches of fog in the air.  
I’m going to control Hans.  
I simply can’t wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my darlings, I hope you liked that little beginning! The adventure has only just begun! ;)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, here we are with chapter two! my, we are romping along aren't we? Can't wait to see what happens to my favourite OTP! thanks for your support <3

**Elsa**

“But Your Majesty!” one of my ministers object, his hands flailing in the air like a drowning man. I sigh and continue to stride through the painting lined corridors, the politician trotting beside me, trying to keep up.

“But nothing your excellency!”  I say, my voice even as I hear the man beside me pant, my entourage which follow me everywhere scurrying behind me, my snowflake train billowing behind me from how fast I am walking. 

"You can’t just pass laws whenever you like!” he says spluttering, his face red with indignation. 

“Can’t I? Last time I looked I was Queen.” I say dryly. I hear titters of laugher behind me from one of my maids.  The now ex-minister of justice gasps.  I reach the doors to my quarters and one of my guards stand to attention and open it for me. I give him a gracious smile before sailing through, my snowflake train billowing behind me.   Before slamming the doors, I look onto the group of five maids, ignoring the rasping jelly that was once one of our countries leaders.

“Olga, can you please make sure the Ex-Minister of Justice doesn’t have a heart attack, at least not inside the castle.  Marie, can you please make sure the new minister for Agriculture meets me in here as soon as he can.” I say.  Olga leads the now obsolete politician towards the kitchen by the crook of his elbow, whilst Marie scurries towards the east wing of the palace.

“Thank you, I have no need for your services for the minute. If I need you, I shall ring.” I say shortly, they all bow before I quickly shut the doors.   I breathe a sigh of relief, that was the last of them. Finally, it was coming together, the relics of the old regime had gone, my new ministers were young, progressive and utterly loyal.  I sit down at my desk, the mountain of papers thinning as I await the presence of the minister for agriculture.  
    
“Enter.” I say shortly without looking up.  The new minister softly comes in and stands before my desk, I allow time to go on as I read the paper in front of me, the clock ticking loudly in the silence before I sign the proclamation and set it to the side.   I look up and smile at the nervous man.  Young and energetic with dark hair and intelligent brown eyes, he fidgets. I laugh.

“I don’t bite.” I say, smiling.   
  
“it wasn’t biting I was worried about.” He says wryly before he seems to realise what he said and stutters.  
  
“Oh, your majesty, I am so sorry, that just slipped out...” he tries to recover, I silence him with a wave of my hand.  
  
“Don’t be ridiculous, I like people who speak their minds. Now, stop apologising this instance.” A say, smiling.  He smiles back weakly.  
  
“Now, to work.  You have surveyed the damage?” I ask, leaning back in my chair.  He nods, his dark brown eyes serious before he leans over the wooden desk, brandishing a map.  I clear a spot on the desk as he come’s round so he is standing beside me. I spread the map out, a detailed survey of how many of our crops have been destroyed from my winter.  
  
“About 70% of our crops are completely gone, the only sections that survived are those near the northern border who got the least amount of snow. It’s not enough to feed the capital let alone the country.” He explains, leaning over me to point to the spot where the majority of our food resources are, his dark hair falling over his eyes.   I point my fingers in a thoughtful steeple under my chin, gazing at the maps in pensive silence.  
  
“Is it possible for us to finance a trade with a neighbouring kingdom?” I ask finally.   
  
“Perhaps.  Mayhap the southern isles would-“ he begins, I cut him off.  
  
"there will be no trading with the Southern Isles.” I say sharply. In the fashion of wounded young men, he bridles and is clearly offended at my curt tone. I sigh.  
  
“I did not mean to be terse, it has been a long day.” I apologise, he smiles in sympathy.  
  
“I understand your highness.   The Kingdom of the Sun has indicated an interest for trade, and they have just experienced a long summer and are over flowing with crops. From what I understand, we have the funds for such a course of action.” He says thoughtfully.  
  
“Let it be so.  Organise a meeting with the ambassador for the Sun Kingdom.  My sister Princess Anna is there at the moment for Princess Rapunzel’s baby shower, perhaps I could write telling her of the situation? She is by no means a diplomat but she will understand the seriousness of this.” He nods.  
  
 “That would be wise your majesty.” He rolls up the map and tucks it under his arm, before walking back round the front of the table, bowing waist deep.  
  
“If…outbursts like this one can be avoided in the future, I would be most grateful...” he says nervously, fidgeting.  I smile.  
  
“I don’t think there will be a need for one.  Thank you your Excellency, you may go.” I say, my voice gentle. He smiles back and softly leaves the room.  I lean back in my chair and smile.  Ah, progress at last. My choice in Minister was clearly a wise one. Of course if it wasn’t for me, we wouldn’t be in this potential crisis situation.  However, I am sure the Kingdom of the Sun will be willing to trade.   I place my head in my hands as I look down at the proclamation meant to be holding my attention.  
  
“He seems nice.” A smooth voice speaks out of the corner, I glance up sharply.  On seeing who it is, I’m unable to prevent a groan.  I really have to get better guards, this is getting ridiculous.  He stands and gracefully strides towards the desk, standing in front of me. “That is, if you like that type.” He says, not meeting my eyes as he lightly brushes off imaginary dust from his white jacket sleeve.  
  
“Since when did you care what my ‘type’ is?” I snap, he glances up and meets my gaze, his green eyes cool as his mouth curves at the corners.  
  
“Since I saw you fluttering your eyelashes at that doe eyed boy.” He replies sweetly.  I feel a rush of anger inside me which his presence always stimulates, I glare at him as he lightly picks up one of the many proclamations scattered across my desk and scans it.  
  
“Unlike you, I don’t flutter my eyelashes.” I say mockingly, snatching the decree out of his hand.  Even though we had come to a tenuous arrangement, I don’t trust him with Arrendelle, or indeed, anything one little bit.  He shrugs casually.  
  
“Hey, it worked on your sister.” He says nonchalantly, a smirk on his lips, leaning on the desk, bringing his face close to mine as he gazes into my eyes. I feel a spear of ager at his words, I hadn’t by any means forgotten what he did to Anna, but by bringing it up he didn’t do himself any favours.  Irritatingly, I feel my pulse speed up at his closeness.  I stare flatly into his sparkling green eyes.  
  
“Don’t talk about my sister.” I snarl, he raises an eyebrow at my fury.  
  
“why not?” he replies teasingly.  I feel some of my powers seep through my skin and into the chair, I glance down and see frost gathering at the wooden legs, frantically I try and staunch it.  
  
“because you don’t deserve to.” I snap, he laughs, his breath leaving a small fog cloud in the freezing air.  
  
“I can’t help but notice the temperatures dropped.” He says innocently, the loss of heat obvious.   I make myself calm, not to let him get to me.  Conceal, don’t feel.  
  
“You tend to have that effect.” I growl, his eyes searching my face.  
  
“usually I make things…heated.” He says suggestively, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. I glare unflinchingly into his emerald eyes.  
  
“One of our many differences Prince Hans.” I say sarcastically, he smirks before reaching up with his hand and lightly tapping my nose with his gloved finger, an oddly intimidating gesture although I refuse to be cowed.  
  
“Soon to be king.  Just think, I’ll be your equal.” He says, his voice so low I almost strain to hear it. His warm gaze washes over me, our faces only a hand-span apart as I stare unflinchingly into his clear green eyes.  
  
“Oh, so you do have a plan?” I say sweetly.  He bridles, something not easy to do when you’re leaning against a desk, but he manages just the same.   
  
“of course!”  he says with an air of affected hurt.  I raise an eyebrow, my gaze flicking carefully over his impassive features.  
  
“Enlighten me.” I say coolly.  He grins playfully, his eyes reflecting nothing but my face.  
  
“enlist your help, depose my brothers and take the throne.” He says simply.  I groan in exasperation before tearing my gaze away from him and scraping back chair backwards. I stand before stalking over to the window, gazing over the citadel, the sky turning to the pink of late afternoon.  
  
“You didn’t think beyond that?” I say in frustration, not turning around to look at him.  He laughs.  
  
“To be honest your majesty, I didn’t think I would make it past step one.” He says wryly.  I spin around, opening my mouth to make a smart ass comment when I find myself face to face with Hans’s 4th jacket button, my eyes widen fractionally as I glance up into his mocking face, wearing its usual smirk.  How the hell does he move that quietly?  
  
“However your highness, I’m so glad that I did.” He says suggestively, his hand lightly running across the bare flesh of my shoulder. I ignore the pleasant sensations that this incites, trying to concentrate but all I can seem to focus on is the warmth radiating from him.  Thankfully, I remember to glare at him.  
  
“Do you ever stop?” I say, my voice lower then I would have liked. He notices the rougher note to my voice and smirks.  
  
“I don’t think you’d like me to.” He says arrogantly, his gaze flicking from my shoulders to my face, his eyes meeting mine, carefully searching. As much as I fight for impassivity, something in my face makes his mouth curl in the ghost of a smile.  
  
“Your ego astounds me.” I say flatly.  He smiles sunnily in response, his hand moves from my shoulder to my neck, which it trails down lightly before running along my collar bone with his gloved thumb, causing delicious sensations to race through me.  
  
“How sweet.” He says, his voice dripping with irony as he studies my upturned face, his hand moving from my collarbone back to my neck, brushing aside the white hair falling over my shoulders as he reaches behind me and undoes the clasp of my dress.  I am unable to prevent a gasp at his forwardness, if this was to stop, I needed to stop it now, but I can’t seem to usher the words from my mouth.  I can’t back away; I am against the wall next to the open window.  
  
“Remarkably forward aren’t you?” I ask, my voice coarse. He smiles salaciously, his green eyes twinkling.  
  
“You don’t seem to mind.” He says teasingly, I feel the dress start to slip down now that the clasp was undone, I frantically reach up and press the fabric back to my torso, holding it up over my chest.  He pouts attractively.  
  
“Your no fun.” He says playfully, his eyes raking up my now partially exposed upper body; in response I drag the dress up to my neck, completely restricting his view.  
  
“I know.”  I say sweetly, his eyes snap up to meet mine, the green depths almost hypnotising as we stand in silence, our torsos a hairsbreadth away from each other’s, my dress almost falling around me.  It registers how erotic this situation is, I remember to glare at him.  I break the weighted silence, the crackling air of tension unbearable.  
  
“Do me back up” I say flatly, turning around.  I hate to ask, but because of the irritating design of this dress, I can’t do it up without the assistance of a servant, or in this case, Hans. He chuckles.  
  
“Alright, I’ll play maid.” He says in his low voice as he brushes my hair over my right shoulder, his hands brushing against my neck as he gets my white tresses out of the way.  The air around is filled with erotic expectations despite the quiet and the relative innocence of the simple task.  However, Hans being Hans, he doesn’t miss the opportunity for tempting me. His gloved hands lightly trail across the bare skin of my shoulder blades, the dress having slipped down in my efforts to keep my chest covered, creating a dip in the fabric exposing the skin of my back.  I shiver as he lightly runs his hand across my lower back, flesh only a lover would touch.  
  
“It doesn’t take that long to find a clasp.” I say, a regrettable quaver in my voice.  He laughs.  
  
“Have you seen this dress?  I think you’ll find it does.” He says in his low voice as he lightly brushes my skin as he softly lifts up the fabric in trying to find the missing clasps, or at least, pretending to be I am unable to prevent a chuckle.  
  
“I am so not hiring you as a maid.” I say flatly. He laughs quietly in response.  
  
“shame.” He says, his voice heavy with suggestiveness as he continues to run his hands down my pale skin.   
  
“Why?” I ask, unable to prevent the flirtatious tone in my voice. The ice maiden inside is sternly reprimanding me, _you shouldn’t be flirting, flirting with him is weakness;_ but for once, I ignore her. I can admonish myself for this later. He laughs, blowing warm air across my skin of my shoulders making me shiver, I realise his mouth must be very close to me, confirmed by a kiss placed on my shoulder blade.  
  
“Well, the lucky girl gets to see you in various states of undress.” He says, his voice dripping with sensual overtones.  His words add to the arousal building inside of me from his artful caresses.  
  
“She does a better job than you.” I say teasingly, he laughs, his hand stilling on the small of my back.  
  
“well, you see Your Highness, my talents lie more to getting you out of your clothes rather than getting you into them.” He says suggestively, I release a low laugh before he makes a noise of triumph as he finds the two ends of the clasp before slowly dragging the soft fabric up my exposed back. Finally, the dress is once more in its rightful place across my torso and I turn back around, facing his sparkling green eyes, which gleam with lust and trouble.  Our torsos are nearly touching, the fabric of his waist coat grazing against the silk of my dress as I gaze up into his emerald eyes. What am I doing?  
  
 _“You know very well what you’re doing”_ the voice whispers temptingly in my mind, I shake my head against it. Hans notices the action and a small frown flicks across his face before its banished.  I need to get him, and his tempting presence, away from me. I rest my right hand on his broad chest, his eyes flick to it in vague surprise before his eyes meet mine again before I press against him, gesturing for him to move back. He takes a minute step away from me, even for this I am grateful.  
  
“I believe we were talking about a plan of attack?” I say, my voice breathy and low.  He laughs as his gaze washes over my face.  
  
“Of course.” He says mockingly, stepping back away from me, taking away the warmth of his body.  I square my shoulders and lift my chin, staring coldly into his green eyes; my inner ice maiden well and truly back in her place before I brush past him dismissively, moving towards my desk.  I rummage around in the unorganised mess of paper and quills, brushing scrolls onto the ground in my efforts.  Hans gives an exaggerated sigh before he strides to the desk.  
  
“when are you going to learn to organise things?” he says, clearly exasperated.   I lean my hands on the desk as I stop my searching, glaring into his green eyes.  
  
“When my mess stops irritating you.”  I say mockingly before turning my attention back to the paper detritus. He gives a sigh of impatience.  
  
“What are you looking for?” he asks wearily.   
  
“I had a map of the Southern Isles here somewhere.” I mutter irritably. He quickly seizes my searching hands and presses them back to my chest, glowering into my eyes, annoyed.  
  
“For the love of god woman.” He says, exasperated before he turns his gaze towards the overcrowded desk, methodically searching through the mess, lightly brushing away papers and scrolls.  I cross my arms over my chest, watching cynically as he systematically combs through the chaos before brandishing a folded piece of paper triumphantly, smirking.  How _did_ he do that?  
  
“For the sake of my sanity, organise your desk.” He says flatly, my mouth quirks at the corners.  
  
“what sanity?” I ask sweetly, he quickly leans over the table and lightly swipes me over the shoulder with the folded map. I gasp in surprise before I allow my powers to run through me like liquid, it gathers in my hands in the form of a snow ball which hits him in his mocking face.  He manages to keep an expression of un-amusement as he brushes the snow off his face and his shoulders, making it fall on the desk.  
  
“Thanks.” He says, his voice dripping with sarcasm before I smile brightly.  
  
“Welcome.” I say sunnily as he glowers at me before unfolding the map and brushing aside scrolls to make a space for it on the overcrowded table. My gaze sweeps over, taking it the size. I glance up at Hans to find him staring at me intently.  
  
“its larger than I thought.” I mutter before dropping my eyes back to the map, unable to withstand the intensity of his gaze.   I wasn’t lying, the southern isles are huge. Made up of three large islands, they neighbour the Kingdom of the Sun and the land of Elmira. I feel an odd sensation of pride that despite its size, Arrendelle is bigger.  
  
“mm.” he murmurs noncommittally.  I point to the gaps between the three islands.  
“How do you get between them?” I ask curiously, not looking up from the map.  I hear Hans move lightly, standing behind me to my right.  He leans over me, the warmth radiating from him distractingly as his auburn hair falls over his green eyes as he points to a small section of coast line between the largest island and the smallest one.  
  
“The gaps between them are tiny; it’s only about 5 minutes by boat to travel between them.  When the tides at its lowest, it’s even possible to walk between them.” He says slowly, I glance up at him, his green eyes meeting mine.  The rare serious look on his face startles me, I get a nagging feeling there is something he isn’t saying.  Eager to break the tense silence which had descended between us, I tear my gaze away from him and back towards the map.   
  
“What are they called?” I ask, gesturing to the three islands. He points to the largest one.  
  
“the largest ones Velik, the middle one is Mir, the smallest is Krava.”   I nod.  That’s all I need to know, at least, in regards to the geography. I quickly turn around to find myself imprisoned in his arms which are leaning on the desk, his torso brushing against mine.  In an effort to move away from the distracting heat radiating from his body, I place my hands next to his and pull myself up on the desk, bringing my face level with his as I sit on the wooden top, my legs creating a barrier between us.  
  
“I need to have an excuse to go there.” I say flatly. He tilts his head to the side in question.  
  
“Why?” he asks, his voice betraying his curiosity. I raise an eyebrow.  
  
“Because I’m the queen.  I can’t just leave whenever I want.” I say flatly.  He laughs dryly.  
  
“I thought the appeal of being queen was that you could do whatever you want.” He says pointedly, it’s my turn to laugh.  
  
“You must be joking.  I can’t do anything without the approval of my ministers, I have responsibilities.” I say incredulously, his face distractingly close to mine.   He quirks an eyebrow.  
  
“Sounds boring.” He says dismissively.  Right as he is, I can’t just up and leave or do whatever I want.  
  
“I need a reason to go.” I say insistently.  He sighs, rolling his eyes.  He freezes at the sight of something on my messy desk which captures his gaze.  His face breaks into a grin as he reaches over and grabs an official looking bit of paper with the crest of the Southern Isles printed on the top.  Instantly, I recognise it, it’s the invitation to the crowning of his brother.   
  
“How about a coronation?”  he says teasingly, I am unable to prevent the predatory smile which plays around my lips as I take  the invite and scan it.  My gaze flicks up to his before laughing softly.  
  
“perfect.”

**Hans POV**

_I’m surrounded by white, I glance around and realise I’m imprisoned in a small box of perfect frosted ice; the perfect facets reflected nothing but my face full of fear.  It’s so cold… Where am I? Suddenly, I am gripped with sheer, blinding, consuming pain. I start in shock from the force of it. So much agony, so much suffering.  I cry out into the box of perfect Ice, leaning against the white wall, fighting to keep the blossoming stabbing sensation under control. My breath comes out in little clouds of fog, that is, what little breath I have left.  It’s so cold…I don’t so much feel myself freezing to death as know I am. The pain suddenly dissipates, I wrap my arms around myself, the temperature drops further.  I start to feel tired, so very tired.  I fall onto the ground, also made of ice as I start to shiver uncontrollably, the initial fear having left me, all my energy drained.  I simply wait; wait for sleep eternal to take me, my breathing slowing. Not long now, at least there is no more pain, only emptiness as the ice starts to claim me.  Suddenly I hear quiet footsteps in front of me. I strain to lift my head sluggishly; the effort is akin to lifting a large weight rather than just my head. I’m so exhausted. I feel them kneel down in front of me; the person quickly takes my chin and lifts my gaze into theirs, and suddenly, all I can see is blue.  
_

_The colour of glittering ice, I am instantly entranced, bewitched by this woman.  This breathtaking woman. As I stare into her deep eyes, Something triggers in my mind, I recognise her, but I can’t grasp her name or who she is.  She is so lovely it hurts to look at her, her white hair cascading over fair  shoulders, her pale skin almost luminescent. A loose white dress falls gracefully over her slim body, reminiscent of a white waterfall.  Briefly, I notice the small snowflake pattern across the hem. The only other colour on her is her Pink lips which match the stain of rose in her cheeks.  I feel my mind recognise her, but I can’t remember who she is, I press hard against my concentration but it won’t seem to respond, my wits sluggish and as frozen as the rest of me. My addled mind slowly realises that she isn’t shivering, she isn’t…she isn’t fading like me.  That’s what I am.  Fading.  
_

_“_ _I’m dying…” I whisper, almost to myself, managing to force out the words through my frozen lips, she smiles gently, a breathtaking movement. She softly cups my face in her cold hands._

_“I know.” She replies softly, her voice low and strangely husky. Its oddly familiar.  
_

_She is like an a goddess of ice and snow,  Her blue eyes are almost glowing as she studies my face, the look in her hypnotising eyes is intense.  I am captured by the icy depths, I expect to feel like I’m drowning, but instead I merely find myself freezing faster, the ice travelling up my legs, severing the connection almost gently.  There is no pain.  It registers in my mind that it is her, that it is this spirit that is killing me, but as I look into her strangely warm eyes, for the first time in my life, I find myself unable to feel hatred.  Maybe she is an angel? She looks like an angel.   A divine spirit of the ice and winter. Perhaps I am already dead?   She lightly brushes her pale fingers across my cheek, a gesture I oddly can’t seem to feel, my whole body numb. She smiles, a gesture so beautiful I avert my eyes as I loose feeling of my torso, the cold inside me absolute. Who is she? I grasp frantically at the memory, but I can’t seem to reach it._   


_"Only an act of true love will thaw a frozen heart.” She speaks softly, unlike me, her breath doesn’t leave a cloud of fog, indeed, the cold doesn’t seem to affect her at all._   
_My eyes lower, the sheer exhaustion seeping through me, an image of her face printed on my eyelids. The last thing I hear before the blinding brightness of the ice consumes me completely is her low husky voice._

_“If only somebody loved you…”_  
  
My eyes fly open before I sit bolt upright, the sheets I had dragged off a forgotten arm chair falling around my waist, panting as my mind reels in fear.  My heart is sounding in my ears as I force myself to calm down, the moonlight filtering in from the crudely boarded windows, beams of the weak light falling on my bare chest, covered in a light sheen of sweat.

“What the hell was that?!” I mutter to myself, conscious of the sleeping palace before I quickly grab my loose midnight blue shirt, slipping it on over my head. 

 _“if only somebody loved you”_  

I feel an unexpected pang in my heart as I recall Elsa’s voice speaking those venomous words, _my_ venomous words.  I realise that in my nightmare, I had twisted the sheets around myself like a knotted rope, I untangle myself before  getting off the discarded sofa, I run a hand through my tousled auburn hair, trying to restore it to its usual neatness, but I’m to restless, to uneasy to bother. The dream had set me on edge.

_“If only somebody loved you.”_

I shake my head to try and rid it of the repeating poisonous sentence, but it sticks in my mind like toxic liquid.  I hear a light creak of a floorboard and I jump, my heart in my mouth. I sigh in frustration with myself; I am far too edgy to be on my own in this room.  Maybe I should go for a walk…Yes, that might help. I fling open the door to find myself staring down at the same ice blue eyes and pale face from my dream.

_Elsa._

Questions flick through my mind, _what is she doing up? Why is she here?_ But on looking down at her upturned face, an expression of surprise which mirrors my own, I find all queries disappearing in my mind, leaving me standing there like an idiot.  She is first to break the quiet astonishment.

“You are staying close aren’t you?” She says, I’m slightly taken aback by her almost coy tone. I arch an eyebrow.

“Would you like to come in?” I ask mock cordially. She smiles just as sarcastically before brushing past me.  It registers that for once, her hair that is usually kept bound in a braid is loose down her back, falling almost to her slim waist in white tendrils. A loose white silk nightgown flows around her, bringing to mind a marble column, statuesque and smooth. It is a tantalizing realization that she must have just gotten out of bed.  She turns around, glancing at the room coolly, oblivious to the erotic thoughts running through my mind.  Her eyes meet mine, the ice blue betraying no emotions.

“Very clever, the one place me or my sister would never go.” She says softly.  I arch an eyebrow.

“Apparently not.” I say flatly.  Not that I had any right to get defensive, it is, after all, her palace, but I cannot resist riling her.   She shrugs gracefully.

“I couldn’t sleep.” She says shortly before moving to the chaise lounge and delicately sitting upon it, staring blankly into the fire, her gaze oddly absorbed.  It occurs to me that she was probably thinking about her sister and what fate nearly befell her here. Unusually for me, I feel a small stab of guilt as I remember that morning.

“ _if only somebody loved you.”  
_

This time, it was my voice, not Elsa saying those five words. Ruthlessly, I push the thoughts away, I can’t have guilt, not now.   She tucks her legs underneath her, curling them up.  I am unable to prevent my gaze from being drawn to the evocative swell of her hip and the sleek length of her upper thigh, both outlined behind the white silk pulled taut by her position.  I sternly remind myself that I’m meant to view her dispassionately, that I can be excused for being curious enough to gauge her attractions against those of the society and royal beauties I had bedded, the majority for personal gain…but all those others have faded from my memory, I can’t dredge up any visions to compare to the ice angel curled in the chair.   
And _dis_ passion isn’t a state to which I can lay claim, not while I’m looking at her.      
Why does she have to be so god damned tempting?!  
She visibly shakes herself and moves her attention to the fire, her blue eyes snapping up to meet mine, catching me staring. 

“Is anything the matter O Prince?” she replies, her low voice filled with sarcasm.  I smile in mock sweetness.

“As it happens, yes.  I can’t help but wonder,” I start before striding over to the chaise lounge and sitting beside her, my thigh distractingly aligned with hers. “What the queen is doing wandering through the palace in the middle of the night in her nightgown.” I ask, leaning my arm on the wooden detail on the top of the upholstery, my head propped up in the palm of my hand.  My hand?  In a brief moment of panic, it occurs to me I don’t have my gloves on, she can see… I quickly move my arm from this position and place my hands in my lap, my wrists against my legs. She notices the movement and arches an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment. Instead, she shifts towards me, her right leg dangling off the edge, the left tucked underneath her right thigh.

“I told you, I couldn’t sleep-“she begins, I wave off her reply dismissively.

“Yes, I got that bit.  Doesn’t explain why you were taking a moonlight stroll in your night attire.” I retort.

“Where were you going then O righteous one?” she counters. A smile tugs at my mouth but I banish it.

“You first.” I retort.  She sighs, exasperated.

“You really are the most childish-“ she begins, I cut her off with a burst of incredulous laughter as suddenly a thought becomes clear.

“You were looking for me!” I laugh, the look of irritation and all to instant denial confirm my suspicions.  Well Well Well.

“Sorry to burst your ego, but your mistaken.” She snaps quickly, her pale cheeks now tinged pink in her annoyance, I am unable to withhold a small chuckle at her defensiveness.  I quickly act before she can throw a snowball at me, or worse.  I grab her small waist and swiftly pull her onto my lap, capturing her thin wrists in one hand. She is now sitting astride me, glaring at me fiercely, the icy blue depths glowing in the dimly lit room.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?!” She snaps, I notice that in the brief moment of physical force, her dress had ridden up her pale legs, the white silk now lay bunched around her upper thighs.  She squares her shoulders, it’s remarkable that she can still look haughty in the position she’s in, but she somehow manages.

“Oh, isn’t this why you were looking for me?” I say sweetly, distracted by the feeling of her unintentionally grinding into me. She tosses strands of white hair over her shoulders dismissively as her blue eyes glare daggers into my own.  For someone of such small stature, she is remarkably intimidating. 

“Firstly,” She says, struggling to free her wrists, my grip doesn’t budge so she sighs in exasperation. “I didn’t even know you were staying in the palace, so how could I have been looking for you!” She snaps impatiently, her icy eyes flashing with irritation.  It briefly occurs to me that although her words and expression radiate displeasure and defensiveness, she hasn’t frozen my arms off yet, even though I know she can lower her temperature at will, making her too cold to grasp. It seems the ice maiden isn’t nearly as uncomfortable as she would have me believe.  A smile tugs at my lips at the thought.

“That is a good point Elsa, but it doesn’t explain what you’re doing in this…particular room.”  I say smugly, she avoids my eyes and shifts uncomfortably, well, making _me_ uncomfortable anyway.  

“I…needed to think.” She hesitates, her entrancing eyes flicking up to my own, trying to read my expression which I keep carefully blank.

“About what?” I ask teasingly, for someone with powers of ice, she is remarkably warm, the pleasant heated sensation radiates from her into me, into my lap.  Does she really have no idea how close I am to- she glares coldly into my eyes.

"If I shared my thoughts, then they wouldn’t be my own.” She snaps, my mouth curves in a smile.

“Touché.” I smirk, a gesture meant to irritate her, which it does. She glares but doesn’t comment like I was expecting.  _Odd._ Silence reigns between us, the room quiet as the grave as the palace slumbers around us.  Elsa stares blankly into my eyes, her own icy depths challenging and damnably unreadable.

“ _if only somebody loved you”  
_  

Eager to break the heavy silence, I decide to go for suggestive.  I raise an eyebrow.

“So, what now?” I ask, my voice low as my eyes flick leisurely over her exposed pale legs, my right hand  holding her wrists captive. 

“What do you mean, what now?” She snaps, clearly irritated, although she still hasn’t put me in my own eternal winter…yet.

“well, can you think of any activity a man and a woman could do in the middle of the night?” I smirk salaciously.  She gives a short dark chuckle which almost makes me think that she was unexpectedly going to succumb when she suddenly grows ice cold.

_aaand there it is.  
_

even though I was expecting it, the sudden block of ice on my lap throughs my body into shock, she immediately sears my skin. I need to get her off me, and fast. I quickly take her by the freezing waist, the sensation of burning stinging my palm as I quickly throw her off me, my previous state of semi arousal completely dissipating, which, of course, was what she wanted to happen.  Clever girl.  I glance at my bare hands, the shirt thankfully covering my wrists.   I notice the burns emerging on my palms from where ii had touched her waist. I glower at her, she smiles back sweetly.  I am unable to prevent a small bout of ironic laughter

“and they say don’t play with _fire.”_ I say, my tone poisonous.  She smiles, clearly enjoying the clear pain I’m in from the ice burns.

“You’re even more frigid then they say.” I snarl, temporarily losing my cool in the face of agony from the burns.  I immediately drag back control of myself as a small flicker of anger crosses her face before she returns to impassivity.

“worse.” She says simply, I smile venomously.

“Sounds lonely you’re Highness.”  I say cruelly, the pain from my hands slowly reaching a numbing sensation thank god.   An odd emotion I can’t define flitters through her expression, but she doesn’t reply. Suddenly, through the cloud of pain I realise that my words have affected her, that I wasn’t wrong. She is lonely. She straightens her shoulders and stands, her face blank and her eyes colder than the ice she wields.

“Better lonely then with someone like you.” She says quietly before walking gracefully out of the room, leaving me mildly astounded, clutching my burnt hands, stupefied.  She sweeps out the door, leaving with a flick of white hair and silk. I hear four muttered words which leave with her, as cold and as icy as her.

“Good night prince Hans.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just like to say; that dream required a little research on my part. You have no idea how hard it is to find sources about freezing to death, you'll find that that little scene is actually quite accurate -surprisingly- in terms of what happens when a person slowly freezes to death.


	3. chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is where it starts to get a little bit M folks…hang onto your hats! This is the chapter where the lemons start…fair warning, I had to fan myself with a bit of paper when I was done ;) While I’m issuing warnings, I should let you know I do use a few naughty words from here on in (well, a few MORE) with a few dark themes. Mentions of rape and mature themes as well.  
> Oh and violence.  
> ...  
> what the hell have I gotten into?!  
> Should say that those warnings are more for the next chapter then this one, but just letting y’all know from here :)  
> Thanks so much for your support and reviews, they mean so much to me! <3

**Elsas POV**

I wrap my arms around myself, salty sea spray lightly covering me as I revel in the fresh air while it lasts.  I rock with the motion of the vessel, moving with it, not against it. I am standing on the prow of the large wooden ship, my hands leaning on the rails.  I glance down into the tumultuous churning blue ocean as the wind ruffles my hair.  I stare out into the horizon, the sun sinking behind the water, like half a plate of gold, the last rays of light dancing over the waves, making them sparkle.  I shake my head, my hair whipping around my head like a white cyclone in frustration.  

_“You’re even more frigid then they say.”_

The snarled words come back to me, echoing through my mind near painfully.  I don’t know why I even care, Hans insulting me was nothing new, and I like to fight fire with fire.  My mouth curves at the ironic expression before I sigh, shutting my eyes.  Perhaps because I fear what he says to be true, maybe I really am ‘the virgin ice queen.’  Suddenly, my eyes flick open, startled at myself.  When did that often used expression start bothering me?  

 I glance back into the sky, turning pink and gold with the sinking sun.  That damned man was tying me in knots, after our little midnight rendezvous, I had been avoiding him religiously, not easy to do when the bastards staying in the palace.  To my surprise, I find myself smiling at the thought.  I shake my head at this inexplicable reaction, I straighten my spine.  That night I had very nearly let my guard down, It won’t happen again; I shall steel my resolve.  Thankfully, I had been able to steer clear of his room before we left the kingdom.   It was so cold, so dark in there.  I shiver, there were other empty rooms in the palace; its huge.  Why did he choose that one?   No, Hans is like his room.  Cold, dark and creepy, I need to remember that.  

_Also very attractive, pleasurable and funny.  Admit it Elsa, you like him.  
_

The irritating voice which always seems to be on Hans’s side whispers softly to me, I growl in agitation. How could I like a monster like him? 

_You’re a monster too Elsa_

the voice whispers softly.  I slam my hands down onto the wooden railing, small handprints of ice grow from where I had pressed my hands in frustration.  Hans is evil, there is more than enough proof, The last week has proved it.  _But has it Elsa? What has he done to you_ \- I cut the voice off midsentence, I will not let myself do this.  For the sake of everything I hold dear, I need to remain uninvolved, to stick to the plan of getting him his kingdom, and then never seeing him again, so life can return to its calm, normal- 

_boring.  
_

I growl at the voice, earning me startles looks from the crewmembers.  I can’t argue with it though, since Hans had arrogantly strode back into my life, things had finally gotten interesting.  No, I need to listen to the Ice Maiden for this one, I can’t let my feelings get in the way.  _No, they aren’t feelings._  
Ugh, why do I have to think about this?! I need something to distract me, problem is, on a ship there really isn’t that much that can. 

_Well, there is something Elsa…_

The same voice whispers to me, I shake my head against it.  No. I won’t let my…baser urges take control like that ever again.  Frustrated with myself, I storm away from the beautiful view and past the astonished eyes of the crew, who have all heard about their queens magical powers, but had never actually seen them.  I swing open the door to my room violently and slam it behind me just as quickly.  Luckily, I don’t get seasick.   The cabin was tiny, but could be cosy.  Hans hated it. The thought of this made me smile; at least there was some good in this.  I sigh before walking over to the bed and lying down on it thoughtfully, I have too much time to think on this ship.  We have been at sea  for two days, it only took 3 days for us to organised everything to leave Arrendelle.   By all accounts, we should reach the southern isles tomorrow, and not a moment too soon.  
His touch, his irritating smirk, his clear green eyes… What I feel is lust, nothing more.  It has to be lust. 

But then why do I have feelings for him?   

“They aren’t feelings!” I snarl into the empty space in front of me, before shooting out a blast of ice through the open portal.  God that felt good.  
There was something else there; I was sure.  Why take that room?  There are many bigger chambers which remain empty but for occasional dignitaries, why pick a boarded up abandoned sitting room? And why on earth was it so cold? I shiver from the memory as my fingers interlock with each other, fiddling.   Irritated by the lack of area to pace in, I quickly sit down on the miniature bed with a groan, shutting my eyes, allowing the soothing motion of the ship to calm me.  It was remarkable how relaxed I was about being on the vessel, considering my parents had died on one.  The thought of this fills my cold heart with a pang; I quickly slam the door on the memory.  I can’t think about that, not now.   I need to rest, to stop thinking about this so hard.  Something tells me that when we get to the Southern Isles, I’m going to need my powers.  

_You don’t know that.  Hans’s brothers might be nice, Hans is probably over exaggerating._

Somehow, I don’t believe a word of that reassuring lie I just told myself. 

**Hans POV**

I quickly stride into the small room, thankfully dim due to the small porthole.  Even so, I quickly draw the tiny drapes over the miniature window, leaving the room in nearly complete darkness.  I sigh with relief, at least there’s no possibility of a fire being lit.  I stand thoughtfully in the dimly lit room, my gloved hands balled at my sides, the space so tiny it almost seemed to be shrinking in on me, it was all too cosy and intimate for my liking.  I try to control my rising emotions, I was going to see my family again, only this time, it would certainly be different circumstances then when I last saw them.

_“Hans you slimy bastard, we know what you did with those invitations.” The sneering voice of William, the fourth oldest brother speaks out of the darkness behind me.  I arch my eyebrows; my four months in a dark room had given me time to practise impassivity, too practise many skills as it happens.  
_

_“_ _I’m impressed.  Your intelligence is astounding.” I say patronizingly before turning my head back towards the book that was occupying my attention.  ‘Arrendelle’ by Arngrímur Johan._

_“We are all curious as to why you’re so concerned about going.  If you think you have a chance with Princess Elsa, you’re an idiot.” Nikolai, the fifth oldest hisses. I give a theatrical sigh before snapping the book shut. I wasn’t enjoying it anyway; I would like this conflict much more.  
_

_“then I’m an idiot.” I say pleasantly.  Even though I wasn’t looking forward to marrying what would probably be a silly trembling idiot of a queen, she could be easily controlled and manipulated, giving me complete power over the kingdom.  Briefly, I wonder how many of the 12 are in the room.  Dominic and Eon were in a brothel somewhere, the 7 th and 8th brothers Eveard and Peter were in prison in the sun kingdom Corona for stealing the princess’s crown, which leaves William, Nikolai, Gregory, Oberon, Dietrich, Luca _ _and Alexi._

_“We don’t like you stealing the invitations little brother.  We were looking forward to…meeting her highness” Oberon sniggers.  I roll my eyes, is sex the only thing they think about? I don’t think the soon to be queen would take kindly to being the centre piece in a gang rape.  I mean Christ; they haven’t even seen her yet.  Does their depravity know no bounds?  I inwardly laugh, who am I kidding, of course it doesn’t.  
_

_“you all disgust me.” I say flatly before standing and adjusting my white Jacket calmly, not turning around.  I am unsurprised to feel the point of a sword press into my back.  I roll my eyes in exasperation.  
_

_“You disgust us.  You disgrace the family.” Gregory hisses.  I sigh.  
_

_“Why, because I’m not as repulsive as you?” I say sweetly.  
_

_“Well look who has finally grown a spine!” Dietrich says mockingly. The sword tip presses further, probably cutting a small whole in my jacket. It was new as well.  
_

_“You really don’t want to do this.” I say calmly.  The 7 brothers laugh.  
_

_“Your half our size, there are seven of us and only one of you!” Alexi sneers. I roll my eyes again before checking my watch; I don’t have time for this.  
_

_“True, but I have something you don’t.” I say coolly.  
_

_“What?” asks Luca curiously.  I smile into the darkness.  
_

_“Technique.”_

My lips curve at the memory.  Perhaps not that different circumstances after all.  It had taken me about 5 minutes to knock out all seven of them, as much as I would like to kill them I couldn’t, a few of them were betrothed to poor girls from neighbouring kingdoms, for the sake of preventing diplomatic incident I hadn’t murdered them.  I laugh when I remember their startled looks of shock at my new found strength and sword skill.  I hadn’t been idle in those dark four months; I knew that if I was to survive long enough to leave the Southern Isles, I needed to add certain skills to my manipulation repertoire such as sword play. However, my first week in the darkened room was not filled with rigorous training or study, rather with something else entirely.  I shake myself from the memory, viciously reprimanding myself. 

_No, you will not go back there.  
_

I divert my thoughts to the aftermath of ‘the room,’ As I had come to call it.  I allowed my natural ambition to take control, to shove my weaknesses into the back of my mind. 

I entered that room a sick, weedy, bookish child who never stood up to anyone or anything, and emerged a gloved sociopath well versed in sword play and manipulation who wanted power.             
As much as Elsa probably regretted my ever coming to her coronation, she would have disliked my repulsive brothers attentions even more, although, unknown to us, she could easily have encased them in solid blocks of ice.  I grin broadly at the image.  Even if-no, _when_ they cede to giving me the kingdom, I will have them killed.  And not by Elsa either, I will have the pleasure myself, my due for so many years of hatred, pain and torment.  They will die very, very slowly.  I chuckle at the thought as I run my hands through my hair.  I was exhausted; I haven’t slept properly since that night.  

“ _Better to be lonely then with someone like you.”  
_

After that accidental late night meeting, Elsa had gone to great pains to avoid me, never being in her room alone, or indeed, in her room altogether.  Lord knows where she sleeps.  Probably with that doe eyed minister she was so fond of.  I’m slightly stunned to realise that I’m imagining her with him, his hands on the pale flesh of her thighs, his lips against hers.  I’m even more surprised to find the thought irritating me, to borderline anger.  I’m a possessive man, but of Elsa? Was I-  
Jealous? 

“No.  No, I’m not.” I tell myself firmly, ignoring the feeling that what I just said was a lie.  I’m not jealous, and certainly not of that lanky farm boy with brown eyes.   She wouldn’t stoop so low, besides, she was the famed Virgin Ice Queen, although if I have anything to do with it, she won’t be for much longer.  I smirk at the thought before sighing and grinding the heels of my palm into my eyes.  I’m so goddamned tired.  

“ _Oh Hans.   If only somebody loved you.”  
_

 The pale face of Elsa floods back into my mind, impossible to shut out.  The nightmares hadn’t decreased; indeed, they were a nightly feature, all including the snow angel herself, Queen Elsa of Arrendelle.  I frown at the thought of her; I sit down on the tiny bed as I cradle my head in my hands, shutting my eyes.  I shouldn’t be thinking about her this often, I should be thinking about the Southern Isles, how I’ll  rule, and how I’ll even approach my brothers in the first place.  Needless to say, they will bring all their wide knowledge of assassination, violence and torture to the fore to try and dispatch of me and the snow goddess, but with Elsa they won’t find it that easy.  I shiver as I remember the scene in the ice palace, her blue eyes  flashing with fury as she nearly stabbed one of my men in the throat whilst pushing another off a balcony.  Her powers could be beautiful, but at that one singular moment, they were deadly, evil and dark.  No, I wouldn’t want to be the man who tried to kill her.  

Well, you _were_ the man who tried to kill her _.  
_

I wave the reminder away dismissively, that was a series of unfortunate events which led to that defining moment out on the ice.  I regret none of what happened that fateful morning, but I know that it was pure luck and circumstance which led to Elsa not killing me where I stood. 

“ _Your sister is dead because of you.”  
_

my remembered venomous words come back to me, The only reason Elsa didn’t blast me in my very own eternal winter when she heard my sword being unsheathed was her grief over what she thought to be the death of her sister, I doubt that sort of opportunity will present itself again, not whilst Anna is in Corona, the kingdom of the Sun.  
I sigh in boredom, I need something to do.   It’s a shame I get uninterested easily, still, there is something to occupy me.  I think it’s about time I melted the Ice Maiden.  
This should be fun.

 **Elsa’s POV**  
I am distracted from my musings about Hans and my situation by a knock on the tiny cabin door.  Already knowing who it is, I don’t bother giving any sign to enter; I know he will come in anyway.  He never did care much for my position as queen.  I sit up and straighten my back, my head held high as I stand, hopefully radiating regal bearing.  He enters the room energetically, the small space seeming to close in on his height and broad shoulders, his green eyes sparkling with mischief.  I am unable to prevent a small twinge of irritation that he has broken the unspoken agreement of distance between us that I went to great pains to install.  I’m even more irritated to find that I don’t really mind.  I clasp my hands in front of me, displaying prim displeasure.  He laughs when he notices. 

“The temperatures dropped.” He smirks, I glare at him coldly. 

“my mistake.” I drawl before tempering the cold quite literally radiating from me.  He smiles sickeningly charmingly.  I allow a weighted silence to descend upon us, heavy and as thick as treacle, he coughs, probably as close to awkward as Hans can get. 

“If you’re expecting an apology for that night, you’re going to be disappointed” he says with his irritating cockiness, I roll my eyes in response. 

“I wasn’t expecting one.” I say shortly, crossing my arms over my chest defensively.  He notices the wary action and widens his eyes and raises his hand to his heart in gestures of affected hurt. 

“Elsa, I’m shocked.  You still don’t trust me?” He says, his voice dripping with irony.  I give a short dark chuckle. 

“I wouldn’t trust you any further then I could blast you…Do you want to see how far that is?” I say sweetly, lifting my hand and allowing a small flurry to build up around it.  He laughs, a noise which sends shivers down my spine. 

“Thanks, but no.”  He retorts before crossing the tiny space, only about 3 steps, making him loom above me, our height difference more irritating than ever.  I feel warmth radiating from his chest covered by his midnight blue shirt and impeccable white coat as I glare up at him, determined not to show how affected I am by his closeness. 

“What is it with you and trying to intimidate me?” I snap, irritated by his easy smile at my cattish responses. 

“I’m not trying to intimidate you.” He says simply, I give a short bark of laughter.

“Oh? Then what particular form of manipulation are you attempting?” I say, my voice dripping with venom.  He smirks, his gaze washing over my face before he seizes my forearms, holding them between us.  I open my mouth to ask him what the hell he thinks he is doing when suddenly; his lips are pressed against mine.

_oh, my._

Heat erupts, between us, around us.  Searing flame wells, swells, then rages through me, through him, and then burns.  His hand had spears into my white hair, cradling my head and holding me to the kiss, holding me captive while his lips press against my own in greedy, urgent, ravenous hunger.  The force of that unleashing moment caught me, transfixed and held my senses-as if he had been waiting for his moment, anticipating and wanting, but had held back.  

Now all restraint is gone.  

A voice in my head, tiny and insignificant is screaming at me to stop, that this is my worst enemy, that I need to remain cold and calm.  The lust in my mind drowns out the Ice Maiden as his tongue cruises the seam of my lips, blatantly tempting, aggressively challenging.  Hard and commanding, his lips move on mine, his tongue impressing stark passion and searing desire on my reeling senses, setting them and my wits spinning ever faster.  I break the kiss, my hands resting on his broad shoulders as he looks down at me, green eyes glittering before I laugh softly. 

“That form of manipulation.” I laugh shakily, he chuckles with me before lightly running his hand across my cheekbone, capturing my defined jaw the anticipation crackling between us is palatable before he steps back from me, I look at him in confusion before he laughs somewhat breathily, his green eyes sparkling. 

“Come with me.” He says softly, I vaguely see him stretch out his hand.   Vaguely?  Why is it so dim in here?  I glance out the porthole to see the stars twinkling against the velvet sky, night has clearly descended.   I hesitate, should I do this?  I know very well where our destination is.  I glance up to his face, wearing his delicious smirk but without the poison in his eyes.  I quickly take his arm and am whisked out of the wearingly familiar room and into the dimly lit ships corridor.  I am pulled along by his determined strides as the passageways lead us deeper into the heart of the ship.  It feels surreal wandering around at night, and yet strangely liberating. He laughs quietly.

“We’re just going on a little field trip, don’t panic.” He says, the smirk audible in his voice.  I huff in annoyance 

“I wasn’t panicking.” I mutter irritably before Hans quickly opens a door, pushes me inside and closes the door behind me.  The room is even darker then the corridor, the small curtain closed against the moonlight.  Well, this won’t do.  I stride over to the porthole and open the tiny drapes, allowing weak moonlight to filter in, somewhat illuminating the room.  I am conscious of him standing behind me before I release a short dry laugh, staring out into the calm sea.  

“I love what you’ve done with the place.” I say, amusement tinging my voice.  Hans laughs before wrapping his arm around my waist, pulling me in close to him, pressing my body against his before leaning down and lightly nuzzling my neck, sending sensations of pleasure through me, the ice maiden inside me is screaming to regain control, to be stone. 

“Thank you.” He says against my throat before he softly kisses my sky rocketing pulse, his right arm joins the left around my waist, before brushing my breast softly.  I shiver before taking control of my reeling senses, this isn’t going to plan.  I was meant to resist, controlling him by withholding, not by getting involved.  . 

“Why am I here?” I ask, my voice huskier then I would have liked, Hans unhooks his arms from my waist before quickly turning me around so I am looking up into his sparkling green eyes, He smiles, showing his perfect white teeth.

“Why not?” he says sweetly, his warm gaze roaming my upturned face.  I narrow my eyes at him.

“Because there will be an ulterior motive.” I  snap, Hans quickly takes my bare shoulders and pins me up against the wall next to the porthole, almost helpless as he takes my wrists and imprisons them with one hand, I look directly into his flashing green eyes, holding my ground. 

“Do I need one?” He murmurs sweetly.  I laugh shortly, unable to prevent taunting him.  

“Yes” I say shortly, smirking.  Hans grip around my wrists grows tighter, although not painful, it is unbreakable, undeniable arousal fills me with heat, his close proximity not helping.  “ _Yes, Yes, Yes…”_ half my body Is groaning, I shake my head, trying to get rid of the thought; the memory.  _No, no, no!_ I try and tell myself, without much result.

“I assure you, this is entirely uncomplicated” He retorts, his mask of sweetness now firmly back into place.  

“Uncomplicated? In what world is this NOT complicated?” I snap, he shrugs with an easy smile. 

“its only complicated if we make it so” he says.  An irresistible compulsion rises in me, drowning out the ice maiden once and for all.  

“Oh? What do you suggest?” I ask teasingly, as soon as the words leave my mouth I mentally rap myself over the wrist. I'm meant to be resisting, not flirting!  It occurs to me that the desire filled part of my body is beginning to drown out the reasonable moral laden part of me.  Oh dear.  At my entendre laden sentence, Hans’s green eyes flicker in surprise and lust.  

“I can think of a few things.” Hans says, his voice low and rough before he releases my wrists, I briefly think he is going to let me go and just pretend my flirtatious comment didn’t happen before he swiftly presses his lips to mine in a searing demanding kiss.  Instantly, my already frayed  self-control is burned into ash by the fire his kiss flares inside me, I am surprised to find I am kissing him back, not fighting.  I am shocked to find myself not only resigned to the inevitable, but that I was looking forward to it.  This…This can’t be happening, I try and regain control, to push away, but instead I find myself reaching up and running my hands through his auburn hair, held tight by his arms around my waist as the kiss raged, as desire, freed, erupts and races through us like an electric shock.  I know that what is happening is wrong, it shouldn’t be this way. 

Suddenly, a moment of clarity envelops me. 

I don’t care. 

 

I don't care that its bad, or wicked, or sinful 

_That perfect girl is gone_

He bites my lip and I open my mouth to gasp, a movement he immediately takes advantage of.  His tongue strokes and claims as I seize his shoulders and return his fire, my tongue duels with his. His kiss is all sexual mastery, commanding, demanding and controlling.  I know that I have to fight him to let the reigns drop and just let us both be, my blood rises to the challenge.  He shifts his hands from my waist to the neckline of the dress, he breaks the kiss and meets my eyes, smirking before he swiftly tugs down the fabric, pulling it over my breasts and then over my hips so it falls in a pool of fabric on the floor, Suddenly, the meeting of our mouths is not nearly enough, nowhere near enough to appease the demand pressing through my blood.  For an instant, our eyes meet, his a perfect glittering emerald, stormy with desire and lust.  Quickly, he loops an arm underneath me and hoists me up, I immediately wrap my legs around his waist, levering me higher against him.  He swiftly moves towards the bed as I press my lips to his in a kiss, initiating an entirely unnecessary sexual challenge; however Hans doesn’t seem to mind at all, he kisses me back, intent on wining like the competitive bastard he is.  

He quickly looks into my widened eyes before dropping me down on the bed, unable to prevent myself I shriek making him smirk above me before he quickly takes his off his white gloves, cream coat and vest before quickly reaching underneath me, his warm hands lingering on my pale flesh as he undoes my ice blue bra and throws it across the room.  He leans down and presses his lips to mine in a desire filled kiss, every heavy thrust of his tongue, every languorous caress, every artful pressure of his lips on mine or the brush of his right hand against my pale breasts holds my senses locked in thrall, sends my wits spinning-leaving me at his mercy, which isn’t what I want.   
for once, I want to be unrestrained and him to be as well, I know that he will try and control me through sex, Which isn’t going to happen.  With a effort, I manage to drag myself free of his spell to peel my fingers which had curled in the sheets and set them lightly to his chest, to the fine dark blue linen still covering the lean expanse, in my distracted state It briefly registers he matches the room. He stills, I can tell I’ve fractured his control, his concentration, but he deepens the kiss, pouring heat down my veins as one pale hand sweeps between us, capturing both of mine.  He breaks the fiery kiss and draws my arms up over my head, I discover he had shackled my wrists in the hand of the arm he was leaning on, my hands now anchored in the pillow above me.  Breathless, I frown, I try easing my hands from his but his grip, although not painful is unbreakable.  He smiles at me sweetly. 

  
“You need to learn to lose control.” I snarl, irritated.  He smiles again before lightly bending his head over my breasts, breathing warm air over the pale flesh. 

“I don’t lose control.” He replies softly.  Well, we will see about that.  I know beyond doubt it was time to stake my claim to at least half the reins.  I can almost feel the control he wields, not just over me but over himself even more.   I don’t simply sense but know that there I a great deal more that he keeps leashed, held back, held at bay-so much more that we could have, could experience, could revel in if only he would let us free.  Before I can think of any suitable action, he presses his lips to the soft upper swell of my breast, then sends them cruising.  Sensation flashed anew, leaving my breasts tight and aching.  I bite my lip to withhold a moan as he lightly licks both my pale pink nipples, his tongue circling artfully.  My hands may be useless, but my legs are free.  This one clarifying thought tugs my mouth at the corners before I twist and roll my hips towards his, raising one thigh, stroking it over his groin.  The result significantly exceeds my expectations.  My caress makes him jerk, stiffen, then suckle fiercely in revenge, ripping a smothered scream from my throat.  Fire lances through me, pouring down my veins.  Struggling to breathe, his grip on my wrists ease as he is distracted, I pull my arms free and quickly sit up.  A sensual tussle ensues, he tries to press me back down and pin me, I fight and resist, my hips and thighs pressing, pushing under his, my hand boldly caressing and stroking his erection.  On a hissed curse, he stops pushing and rolls onto his back, taking me with him.  

“For god’s sake Elsa, would you just let me do this my way!” He says, clearly exasperated and frustrated, I land on top of him, near naked and exposed.  

“Boooring.” I reply sweetly, the sheets tangled between us.  I quickly undo the midnight blue shirt buttons, he curses again and quickly tries to capture my hands, but he gets tangled in my white hair, the thick strands capture his fingers and allow me to undo the last of his buttons.   I quickly tug it over his broad shoulders and toss it across the bed.  His chest is muscled and finely sculpted, my eyes travel it delightedly until I reach his hard abdomen.  Rows of raised white slash marks cover it, like he has been attacked.  I note burn marks on his right arm and…slit marks on his wrists.  Why would he have so many scars? My eyes widen and fly up to meet his, which are reflecting panic and shame.

“What are these?” I ask softly, a flicker of emotion passes his green eyes. His eyes lower, looking at the scars across his lower stomach.  Oddly, his face reflects disgust.

“ugliness.” He says briefly.  I stare at him before smiling softly.    

“They are a part of you.  And none of you could ever be ugly.” I say softly, trailing my hands along the white tissue as his eyes meet mine, green and blue connect speaking wordlessly as I set my hands to the flat lines of his chest, exploring, claiming.  He groans quietly making me smile as I bend my head and trail kisses from his neck down his chest, He grabs my white hair and quickly lifts my head, pressing my lips to his.

  I instinctively recognise the tussle of wits and wills and I leap into the fray, he wants me to loosen my grip on the reins of this engagement and cede them wholly to him.  This kiss pours heat down my veins, but I refuse to surrender, fighting back as I run my fingers over his muscled chest, over the slash marks. I give back every iota of passion he put into the kiss.  This is what I want, or at least, the threshold of what I want, I take my spare hand from his chest and move it behind me, still engaged in the kiss, I undo his trousers and reach into his underwear, I softly stroke him, I break the kiss and watch him.  Emotions flick through his face, and finally, he stops at the one I am looking for.  Fire.  I know I have won.  He has lost control. 

The satisfaction barely registers when he pounces, He quickly flips me over, my legs instinctively part to cradle his hips as he lies above me, his green eyes glittering.  With one hand, he tugs off my underwear and tosses them away, in response I tear off his trousers and underwear as well, we are both as naked as each other.  One hand catches and holds my face, then he kisses me- with a unrestrained ferocity that leaves until me reeling.  Had I thought his kisses passionate before?  This one leaves me to waste, with wits flown, senses rioting.  His spare hand shapes and kneads my breasts, his touch sending jolts of fire through my already heated body, making me cry out as he seizes and claims, his lips brand, driving me to greater desperation, I can no longer think, only respond to the pleasure. 

_More, more, more…_

I do everything to encourage and feed his desire, his passion, his urgency.  Greedy and ravenous, aching and needy, addicted to the flames I had undulated between us.  I need him.  For the first time I admit this to myself, I think I have always known, I hid the truth from myself.  I am brought back to the heated present by his spare hand lightly pressing a finger inside me, I arch my back, the flames building higher inside me, heat flares, even hotter, more hungry then before.  It flashes beneath my skin, races down my veins, pooled, welled and swelled in my body.  We both lock eyes.  He moves his finger from me, understanding, communicating our need to each other.   Without haste and yet without hesitation, he wedges his hips between my thighs, the anticipation between the two of us building as he slowly pushes inside me, I gasp from the unfamiliar filling sensation and a brief flicker of pain, I stare into his sparkling green eyes, for once devoid of control and restrictions, for once, he is simply Hans.  Simply that.  He didn’t steal my kingdom or try to assassinate me. 

Because none of that matters, not now, not here. 

He is a man and I’m a woman, nothing more.  He withdraws and plunges into my body, we both surrender to the fire and the flames, desire beats at us, passion rakes its claws over us.  Some impulse even more powerful wipes my mind of all thought-and left only raging hunger behind, but he is here to sate me, at one with my greedy hunger, hands grasp and cling and fingers sink deep as breathing is laboured and passion ignites and burns all around us, in us, through us, until nothing is known beyond the world but our desire, our lust, our longing.  Will aligned, control long gone, we ride through the flames and headlong into ecstasy, the flames rage painfully as I shatter with a breathless scream, he follows me over the edge, both of us revelling in glory.  He retains enough sense to collapse beside me rather than on top of me.   My breathing slows, my wits slowly crawl back to me with its tail between its legs.   

“Ohhhh goddd.” I groan, the realisation of what just happened floods back to me full force, Hans issues a breathy laugh at my exclamation. 

“my thoughts exactly.” He replies softly, I am unable to prevent a small laugh.  I just slept with Hans…The Ice Maiden is oddly quiet and still inside me rather than reprimanding me sternly like I had expected.   I become aware of the weighted silence which has fallen over us, eager to alleviate it, I decide to pretend that that never happened. 

“Let me get this straight, 12 brothers?” I ask, my voice incredulous as I stare up at the wooden ceiling, A glance out the porthole tells me that it’s now the middle of the night; my hair in disarray around my shoulders.  Hans laughs in response. 

“Uh huh.  I’m the youngest.” He responds, his voice light.  I turn to look at him, my elbow propped up on the pillow as I rest my head on my hand.  Oddly, considering what just happened between us, I am strangely self-conscious of my bare shoulders, the white sheets covering my breasts.   My gaze sweeps over his breathtaking profile, his head still turned towards the ceiling, seemingly unaware of my contemplation. 

“What are your brothers like?” I am unable to prevent myself from asking.  Hans gives a short dark chuckle before turning to face me, his green eyes sparkling.  He quickly shifts across the surprisingly wide bed, drawing himself up on his hands above me; his hands braced either side of my head as he stares down at me, his clear green eyes glittering in the dim light.  Out of the corner of my eye, I see the light swirling burn marks up his right arm. 

“Absolute,” He begins before dipping his head and placing a kiss on my bared neck. “rogues.  Two of them have turned pro I believe, they attempted to steal the crown jewels of Corona” He finishes, raising his head again for his warm gaze to lightly sweep over my face.  

“Oh?”  I ask teasingly, the warmth from his body radiating through me.  He raises his brown eyebrows. 

“Let me put it this way.  They are much, much, much worse than me.” He says, his voice oddly empty and resigned. “Cutthroat villains the lot of them.  They would take one look at you,” he pauses to softly bite my ear and then my exposed collarbone “and just want to eat you up.  They’re going to be very jealous.” He finishes, a smile playing around his lips before falling back down onto the bed beside me. 

“I doubt they will feel that way when they see what I can do.” I say, my voice taking on an incredulous tone. 

“oh no Elsa.  Men like them are attracted to power.  I would be worried about you if it wasn’t for the fact that you can so obviously take care of yourself.” He says, grinning in a predatory style. 

“and what, Dominic is going to just ascend the throne?” I ask, incredulous.  Surley if they were that bad, there would be a wave of unhappiness about the new leaders.  Hans nods. 

“the Southern Isles are...used to leaders like that.” He explains. I notice the stiff tone in his voice and arch a white eyebrow. 

“and you think you would rule differently to your brothers?” I ask teasingly.  He gives a breathy laugh crossed with an exhale. 

“definitely.  We don’t…see eye to eye on many things.” He explains slowly.  

“Oh? Like what?” I ask curiously.  He sighs, gesturing vaguely. 

“Mindless violence, rape, murder.” He says vaguely.  I am unable to prevent a laugh of ironic laughter.

“You’ve never been averse to those things before.” I say wryly. It’s his turn to chuckle now.

“Oh contraire.  I have never been violent-Don’t give me that look, I came close, I never actually hurt anyone, I have never raped anyone and-“ I cut him off impatiently 

“you only attempted to murder me and my sister?” I say sweetly. 

“exactly.” He laughs, noting the dry tone in my voice.  

“Alright, I have a question.” I say slowly.  

“mm?” he murmurs softly. 

 “why did you try and kill me?” I’m unable to prevent myself from asking.  He laughs.

“Your surprisingly naïve, you know that?” He says, his green eyes meeting my own.  I arch an eyebrow. 

“so it was just for the throne?” I say, half oddly disappointed.  Part of me hoped that there was another story, another reason, not just his inner sociopath.  He notices the dissatisfied tone and chuckles. 

“Sorry, nothing special.  No ulterior motive, just power.  Plain and simple.” He says, his voice dripping with mock apology.  Silence descends on us, the ship lightly creaking.  This time, he breaks the quiet. 

“You’ve never been to the Southern isles have you your highness?” he asks softly.  I shake my head in response. 

“Lucky you.” He says shortly. 

“Is that were you got…those from?” I am unable to prevent myself from asking, gesturing to his scars.  He stiffens before laughing. 

“Curious aren’t you?” He says teasingly, this time, I shift towards him, placing my hands either side of his torso.  I arch an eyebrow imperiously. 

“You didn’t answer my question.” I say flatly.  He laughs at my insistence before reaching up and tucking a white tendril behind my ear. 

“I don’t think I have to.” He says playfully.  I glare at him before he sighs dramatically. 

“The ones on my stomach are a present from my leach of an older brother and the burns on my arm are from my delightful father.” He says lightly, although the faint glimmer of pain in his eyes shows that he isn’t as dismissive of it as he seems.  My eyes widen in shock, what kind of place was he coming from?!  Suddenly, I realise something. 

“And the ones on your wrist?” I ask, almost afraid of the answer.  Which family member tried to assassinate him this time?  His green eyes flash briefly in anger before a door is slammed on his emotions and his face is schooled back into impassivity. 

“My family again.” He says coolly.  I raise my eyebrows in response. 

“So, not exactly a happy household?” I say teasingly, eager to dissipate the tension that had just developed. He gives a rich chuckle in response. 

“afraid not.” He retorts, his pale fingers interlocking tightly.  I laugh softly before I allow myself to fall back onto the pillows, once more staring at the wooden ceiling.  ‘No wonder Anna liked you.’ I think to myself, knowing that my sister could relate to him.  The thoughts of my sister fill me with guilt and sadness, which I quickly wave away. 

“I know the feeling.” I reply, the tiredness inside me suddenly bursts, my eyelids getting heavier and heavier until I’m forced to close them, my limbs feel like lead, unmovable before I slowly feel myself drifting off to sleep.  The last thing I hear before I surrender to the sweet embrace of rest is a chuckle from the man beside me and a whispered sentence. 

“Goodnight your majesty.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew, boy was that fun to write ;)  
> The next two chapters will be pretty dark folks, I feel I should say nothing drastic happens to Elsa or Hans (well, one drastic thing which I wont mention)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So the warnings for this chapter (I have to list them, there are so many!):  
> -Ice themed violence (Oh Elsa.)  
> -very bad language (Apparently the royal family of the southern Isles didn't teach very good manners)  
> -Mentions of rape  
> -Lemons darlings ;)  
> -A little bit of gore for this one ;)  
> -Mature themes  
> HAVE FUNNNNN!

**Hans POV**

" _Your sister is dead because of you"_

_I look around to see who is saying those things, those hurtful, poisonous words, to my shock, I find it is me. My mind is blank, Not just blank but empty, like all my control has been erased, replaced by…something else entirely. I stare around at the room in confusion; it's the same white ice box as before, the perfect walls reflecting my face, not in an expression of terror as I'm feeling, but in a cruel smirk. Terrified, I try to bring myself back, but instead there is only emptiness. I hear something, a strangled sob that plunges straight to my heart, I glance up to see the angel, the same beautiful goddess in the identical flowing white dress, her azure eyes wide and reflecting pain and disbelief, I feel something fall on my head, I look up to see snow start to fall from the ceiling, Despite every sense of recognition going off in my head, I can't place who she is, I can't seem to remember her name, who she is too me._

_I've been searching my whole life to find my own place._

_I stare into the face of the snow angel, suddenly, almost in slow motion, a single tear rolls down her beautiful face, it falls down her pale cheek to the floor, where it freezes mid-air and falls to the ground with a tinkle, frozen solid as the blizzard grows, rustling her hair across her pale shoulders. Why am I doing this to her? Why can't I remember her name? All I know is that like all creatures of beauty, like all creatures of power, she must die._

_I found my place_

_Suddenly, she collapses onto the ice, as she falls, the blizzard stills, the snowflakes suspended in mid-air like time itself has stopped. Her back is to me as she curls up in a ball, almost like she knows what I am about to do. Why? What does she have that I want? I feel my mind frantically try and reach at her name, it's in the corner of my mind but I can't seem to grasp it, like it's blocked off.  
The air is frigid and icy, my breath comes out in a fog as I unsheathe my sword, the action oddly makes no noise, like the angel has somehow taken away sound itself in her grief. I shift the broadsword in my hand, suddenly it seems so weighted, the metal seeming to grow in heaviness as I seem to strain to lift it, almost fighting with myself._

_Love is an open door_

_She needs to die. The angel of snow and ice must burn, as all must. Her time is now, this is fate, destiny. I have worked so hard for this, through all the pain, the hurt and the sorrow I have been waiting in the darkness for one of the angels to fall, for their halo to fall in the ground, soaked in blood and death, ready, waiting to be picked up._

_Say goodbye to the pain of the past_

_This angel fell, and now she must pay. The scars on my wrist throb and my heart sounds in my ears, adrenaline presses through me as I raise the weighted sword, my emotions as still and as balanced as the still blizzard around me. She is so beautiful it hurts; she is almost glowing in her grief, her luminous pale skin shining against the whiteness of the cube. So much beauty, so much power, so much splendour. She must die. It almost seems a shame that something so precious should be so tainted by fear, by agony, by hatred. But it's alright. I'm going to free her from the pain, from the hurt. That's what I'm doing, I'm releasing her._

_We don't have to feel it anymore_

_Its time. I allow the sword to swing down, almost in slow motion as time seems to slow.  
The ice angel will burn._

I sit bolt upright in bed, my heart thumping from fear as I gasp for breath, wrapping my arms around myself. It's just how it happened that morning, the fallen angel, the sword, the snow… Why can I never remember Elsa in these dreams? I hear a murmur beside me and a muffled complaint.

"Must you?" a mumbled voice speaks from beside me. I glance down beside me and see an unfamiliar sight that warms my cold soul. Elsa, Queen of Arrendelle, stretched out luxuriantly across the sheets like some sort of cat, her pale body stands out against the dark blue of the bed, her hand curled up beside her head in a touching protective gesture, her long eyelashes casting a small fan of shadows across the plump swell of her cheeks. I allow my gaze to drift down to the provocative curve of her full lips, down her long neck and her delicate collarbone, down to the swell of her very...distracting breasts.

"Yes" I reply sweetly, staring absentmindedly at the square blocks of light the porthole casts on the floor. What time is it? I quickly seize my blue shirt and slip it on over my head, finding my pants and underwear tangled amongst the sheets. " _How did they get there_?" I think to myself, smiling wryly as I recollect last night. " _I wonder if those bite marks are still showing_?" I wonder. I frown when I remember the events of the evening before, the goal was to control her, to use sex against her rather than actually ceding myself. I had utterly, completely, unashamedly enjoyed myself, which wasn't the plan. I was meant to remain unattached, so there would be no complications, but now I wasn't so confident, not with  _that_  on offer. I glance back at the now not sleeping beauty, The Ice Maiden herself was sitting up in bed, the sheets pressed against her torso, hiding her delicious breasts from my view, damn her. She arches a haughty eyebrow.  _"How does she manage to look so imperious first thing in the morning_?" I ask myself.

"Good morning your majesty" I say sunnily, my cheerfulness grating on her mildly irritated disposition.

"It was until you woke me up" she retorts, quickly gathering her discarded clothes which lay strewn across the bed and slipping them on once more.

"Busy day today. By all accounts, we should be in the Southern Isles by sundown." I shrug, She glowers at me.

"Still no reason to wake me up." She snaps, clearly not a morning person. Like trying to calm a wild animal, I hold up my hands in surrender, something tells me she isn't going to like what I'm going to say next.

"what happened last night, I-" I begin to say, she cuts me off with a withering look that could quell a raging beast.

"Last night didn't happen. I have drawn a veil over last night." She says flatly, her arms crossed over her chest. Not for the first time, I vaguely wonder how someone so small could be intimidating.

"Why?" I ask, my every pore radiating casual insolence. I do love riling her. She visibly bridles, her captivating eyes flashing.

"Because once our business is concluded, I trust you'll have the good grace to leave my life once and for all." She says coldly, I laugh.

"If you insist your highness." I say sweetly before quickly reaching out to her, grabbing her wrists and pulling her to me, she struggles half-heartedly. She glares daggers up at me as I enjoy the sensation of power over her; even though I know she could snap freeze me at any time.

"However, if you…have any urges which need satisfying, I'm just a small walk away." I murmur suggestively, a flicker of desire flashes in her blue eyes before its quickly banished in favour of her usual impassivity. She lowers her body temperature to just above freezing, enough for me to let go, but not enough to burn me like last time. She sweeps elegantly out of the room before I chuckle. Well Well, it would seem the Ice Maiden felt a little bad after all.

**Elsa's POV**

I slam the door behind me, already irritated. What a bitch of a morning, I woke up next to the one person I truly hate

_that's not quite true, is it Elsa?_

Of course it is. I have every reason to hate him, the smug bastard had attempted to kill me and my sister, and then take over my kingdom!

_But so did the Duke of Weasleton, and yet, you feel differently about Hans then the Duke._

My inner voice reminds me, I nod, acknowledging the truth of this. Interestingly, Hans seems to share my thoughts on the slimy moustached ruler. Hans…

"Ohh Goddd" I groan again, the heated remembrances of the night before hitting me at full force. Now that I think about it with my wits full intact, it was almost as if we were fighting each other through the sex, trying to exact revenge on the other through use of pleasure and stimulation. Well, there are worse ways. Unbidden, my mouth curves at the thought. What I had felt, no, what we both felt, was so different to anything I had felt before. That isn't the problem, the problem is that it was with  _Hans._

No, What I had felt had to stop, it would stop. Now that the lust that had affected both of us was quenched, I can focus, move on. I can stop getting so damned distracted.  
at the memories of last night, I find myself unexpectedly aroused by the thoughts running through my mind before I shake my head in exasperation with myself, I had just finished reprimanding myself, and now I want a repeat performance?

" _If you have any urges which need satisfying, I'm just a small walk away."_

I curse using words a queen shouldn't know before I allow my powers to run through my veins, shooting a flurry of icicles. I feel much calmer after that little process, enough to regain my composure. What happened last night cannot be as easily forgotten as I would like, but I can at least push it away. One good thing had come from those events however; I saw Hans vulnerable for the first time. I see the slashes in my mind's eye, the raised white tissue stark and obvious against his hard chest, the swirling burn marks on his right arm, and the strange lines against his wrists. I shiver, for one second I have sympathy for him, If it was his family which did that, then I don't blame him for being a little bitter.  
By the sounds of it, these brothers aren't very good rulers. But was Hans? His obsession with control and order had ensured that whilst I was in my ice castle, my people were well taken care of, fed and kept warm, for which I almost owe him my thanks, not that he would ever know that.  
I am distracted from my musings about him and my…unusual situation by a knock on the tiny cabin door.

"Enter." I say, my regal bearing well and truly back in place. I know it's not Hans, the arrogant bastard would never knock. It's the captain of the ship, a bearded man with kind brown eyes smiles at me.

"Good morrow Your Highness, I bring news." He says, his voice pleasantly soft. I find myself unable to prevent a smile.

"yes?" I ask uncharacteristically gently.

"We have sighted the Southern Isles; we shall dock at Velik in about 20 minutes." He says, I smile again.

"Thank you captain." I respond, he bows and closes the door, leaving me alone again. Suddenly I feel a strange sensation in my stomach, am I…Nervous?  
No, why would I be? I am the Snow Queen for crying out loud, if anyone tries to kill me I can obliterate them faster than they would know how much ice hit them.  
With a sigh, I realise that I had better tell the irritatingly stimulating prince that he was home; I quickly open the door and stride down the warren of wooden corridors before I find the door, lightly grazing my knuckles over it in a vague knock. Somehow, the door swings open instantly, a smirk covering his regrettably attractive face as he leans against the doorframe, baring me entry.

"Back again my Queen? Insatiable aren't you?" he says smugly, I glower at him, my arms crossed over my chest whilst I tap my fingers against my right arm with impatience.

"Cool your ego Hans, I have some news." I say coldly, irritated by his casual insolence in keeping me out in the hallway, but I'm hesitant to press past him, almost afraid of what my bodies reaction would be to having him close to me, brushing up against me…

"oh? I'm listening." He says simply, well aware of my irritation of being kept in the corridor, his green eyes sparkling down at me. I take a deep breath to stop myself from snap freezing him, and glare daggers up at his handsome face, wearing its usual smirk.

"We shall be making port in the Southern Isles in about 10 minutes. Your home" I say shortly, his eyes widen slightly, a brief flicker of an emotion I can't identify flicks through his face; I take the opportunity while he is distracted to try and stride into his room, but he swiftly stands to the side, blocking my entry with his body. He smirks down at me whilst I glower at him.

"My my Elsa, I had no idea you were so eager to get back into my room." He says smugly, I flip my hair over my shoulder in irritation.

"No, we have matters to attend to-" I begin to say, I'm cut short by a short burst of intimate laughter from Hans before he runs his hand through his slightly tousled auburn hair.

"Well, if that's not a double entendre, I don't know what is." He says insolently in his low voice before I grow increasingly weary of this arrangement, I glare up at him.  
"are you going to let me in?" I snap, my temper and patience fraying. He grins down mockingly, well aware that I can't really use my powers on a ship, at least, not enough to harm him.

"Are you going to ask nicely?" he says sweetly, a glint of desire in his captivating green eyes.

"No." I say flatly, I lift my hand and quickly press it in the air, summoning an icy wind to blow him backwards, just enough for me to quickly step inside the room. I give him a small smug smile as he shakes himself, clearly put out.

"all you had to say was please." He says irritably, I give him a mockingly sweet smile.

"oops." I reply in mock apology.

"On the bright side, you really were determined to return to my room-You are desperate aren't you?" He says insolently, I give a small huff of impatience but give no answer. He notices my silence and takes it for acquiescence; he leers at me, not unpleasantly.

"In that case, would you like it in the bed or against the wall?" he says lasciviously, I am unable to prevent the small shivers which run up my spine at his words, but I retain outward stoniness, glaring at him with all the ice I can muster.

"In your dreams." I snap, oddly, he stiffens before laughing quietly.

"I wish." He says simply. I frown at this odd reaction before remembering the task at hand, figuring out some semblance of a plan.

"we need to figure out how to get you into the castle-the invitation only covers me. Besides, it's widely known I'm single." I say thoughtfully, the last words reminding me of my nickname, the Virgin Ice queen. I feel my mouth tug at the corners in a quickly banished smile when I realise that that expression can't be used accurately anymore. He shrugs

"quite simply, I think we should just act like nothing untoward is happening." He says plainly, I stare at him, incredulous.

"What? Me, The Queen of Arrendelle, a guest for the coronation of your brother shows up at the castle as per her invitation 2 days before the ascendency of Dominic with the despised and exiled Prince Hans of the Southern Isles, and we just pretend that nothing is the matter?" I laugh, he smiles serenely.

"Pretty much." He says simply, I arch an eyebrow at his faith in this harebrained plan, when suddenly, a thought strikes me.

"When you say nothing untoward…Do you mean like we're a…couple?" I ask hesitatingly, he smirks lecherously.

"I can't imagine you would have any problems with that your highness." He says smugly, I frown, unsure how I feel about this particular part of the plan.

"That means sharing a room." I say flatly. He gives me a look of mock innocence.

"Of course, that's the best bit!" he says, as if surprised by my naiveté. Well, not as naïve as he would like, I wager.

"No. I have a reputation to uphold, besides, if Anna gets wind of this she will be beyond furious." I say reasonably, know it to be true. My sister's feelings towards Hans didn't exactly run towards kind. He shrugs.

"Do you have any better ideas?" he points out, I tilt my head, my mind working furiously. Maddeningly, no alternative answer presents itself.

"Well, no." I admit as he smirks in triumph.

"See? Besides, you will only have to put up with it for a few days." He says persuasively, I sigh in resignation.

"Fine" I sigh, irritated by the arrangement, but prepared to tolerate it.

"oh, one other thing. Obviously the second we step foot in the castle expect my darling brothers to attempt to kill me, torture both of us and rape you, probably all three. You're a big girl; you can clearly take care of yourself. Kill them if you have to, but basically use your powers at will" he says calmly, I raise an eyebrow.

"Sounds promising." I say shortly, feeling oddly liberated at the prospect of finally being able to use my powers to their full extent. Suddenly, a question appears in my head.

"what are your brothers names?" I ask, realising I don't actually know. He sighs.

"oldest to youngest: Dominic, Eon, Edward, William, Nikolai, Gregory, Peter and Eveard who won't be there, Oberon, Dietrich, Luca and Alexi." He recounts, I reel trying to remember their names.

"How do we do this? Do I just walk in and freeze them?" I ask. He shakes his head.

"No no. I want to have some fun with them first." He says, grinning.

"What are you suggesting?" I say, warming to this idea.

"Elsa, our mere presence will irritate them. Well, my presence anyway, speaking of which…" he trails off.

"speaking of which?" I prompt.

"They aren't going to be happy to see you or me. I suggest you brace yourself for some…unpleasantness." He says slowly. Unbidden, I grin. Ever since I ascended to the throne, I had been dying for some distaste.

"Oh, I can handle unpleasantness." I say shortly. Han's quirks an eyebrow.

"I think you can indeed." he asks, clearly amused. I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him coldly.

"Is there any protocol I should be aware of? Things to do, what not to do?" I ask shortly. He laughs, a sound which actually shows shades of humour.

"Elsa, we aren't getting married. I promise you, they are going to be far from…overjoyed to see us." He says dryly. I stare him down before he sighs, exasperated.

"Fine. Your higher rank then any of them, so it's not necessary to curtsey, just a nod of the head." He says vaguely. I nod, etiquette is rather my thing. A thought seems to strike Hans.

"Oh, and don't eat or drink anything that you don't get yourself. This is important Elsa." He adds seriously, I roll my eyes.

"obviously." I say irritably. "How long will I be here for?" I ask, he shrugs.

"The coronation is the day after tomorrow, and it will probably take until the last second before he has the crown on his head for Dominic to cede to us, and probably a few days after that to make sure here are…no complaints among the nobility. All in all, no longer than a week." He muses, I nod. Suddenly, I see the slashes across his stomach in my mind's eye.

"What about you? I have my powers, but how are you going to keep yourself alive?" I am unable to prevent myself from asking. Hans raises an eyebrow at my words.

"Your concern is touching" he says mockingly whilst I glare at him icily. "Don't worry about me. I have a few tricks of my own." He says inexplicably

"I'm impressed. Your brothers seem…versatile." I retort. He laughs.

"Not really, no. They are all rather unimaginative." He says wryly. We hear a bell sound, and the ship lurches as it makes port. With the sharp movement, I stumble forward and am caught by Hans, who quickly seizes my forearms, holding me up. However, he doesn't release me but gazes into my upturned face, his green eyes sparkling into my own as his warmth radiates from his chest into my cold form. His regard drops to my lips, for one dizzying moment, I think he is going to kiss me. It's with irritation I realise I want him too.  _Damn him._ I draw a deep breath to gather myself

"Shall we?" I ask, my voice lower then I would have liked. He laughs before releasing my arms from his grasp _,_ grinning almost impishly before offering me his arm. I lay my hand lightly on his white sleeve.

"You know," I say as we sweep out of the claustrophobic cabin "I might just enjoy this."

**Hans's POV**

I breathe deep, inhaling the scent of the Southern Isles. Briefly, my mind wonders how each country could have its own distinctive smell. Arrendelle smells of frost and sunshine, The Southern Isles smells of smoke which rises from the chimneys of the houses which line the waterfront, like brightly coloured chocolate boxes, the stave roofs rising almost to greet the sun. The capital in Velik is shaped in a circle, the city divided into six Sestiere's (quarters) per profession; the fishermen, the candle makers, the tailors, the builders, the bakers and the artists. Of course the professions amongst the Sestieres mingle, there are more jobs in the Southern Isles then just those six, but you can be sure that if you need to find a dressmaker, it will be in the tailors quarter, just as a patisserie would be in the bakers quarter. In the centre of the city was the castle, the high spire reaching ambitiously towards the sky as if to try and reach the gods themselves, it was more akin to a fortress then a palace, built during medieval times, it's the epitome of intricate gothic architecture. I hear Elsa chuckle beside me, I glance down at her.

"What?" I ask, she flicks her gaze up at mine, her blue eyes glittering.

"I didn't think it would be this…pretty." She says, oddly I feel a strange sensation of pride at her words.

"We aren't barbarians." I say with sarcasm only Elsa can match. She turns her gaze back towards the bustling port, merchants and fishermen setting off in boats, and just as many coming back in with crates full of the bounty of the sea. There is a cough behind us and we turn to see a man with a beard and gentle brown eyes, reminding me unpleasantly of the doe eyed minister, a sharp and unexpected barb of jealousy pierces me. Strangely, I feel an odd sense of triumph, I had Elsa first.

"Your majesty and-" he begins, his gaze flicking to me curiously. It occurs to me that hardly any of the peasantry in Arrendelle actually knew what I looked like, a fact which worked to my advantage.

"A friend." She says firmly, not looking at me. He nods, but clearly his mind is whirring.

"A carriage has been sent to take you to the palace; it's safe to disembark now." He says, his gaze still sizing me up. I stare into his brown eyes unflinchingly before I hear a theatrical sigh from Elsa, who tugs at my arm, dragging me away from the impromptu glaring match which had developed between me and the captain.

"Honestly, will you please control your testosterone?!" she hisses, clearly put out. I chuckle and pat her hand which is on my arm in a mocking gesture of tenderness before she let's go of me and gracefully descends the thin gangplank, her bearing regal as she holds her long snowflake train in her left hand, aware of how hard it would be to descend without my stepping on it. She sweeps over to the dark purple carriage, exchanging soft words with the coachman, who looks oddly familiar.  
I can't resist fucking with her a little. I sidle up behind her and lightly wrap my arm around her slim waist in a gesture of possessiveness which she stiffens at, but conscious of our cover of a couple, she allows it to remain. The coachman's eyes nearly bulge out of his head as he stares at my gloved hand, before his gaze travels up my arm, my torso and then to my face, where he freezes. He clearly recognises me. I smile cheerfully.

"Good morning." I say brightly, his eyes widen even further before his gaze flicks between me and the now very put out Elsa, clearly confused.

"Your Majesty, is that-" he starts to ask Elsa, she holds up a hand, silencing him.

"Yes, it is. Shall we go?" she says wearily, obviously irritated. Without waiting for an answer, she gracefully climbs into the carriage, I follow suit after a wink to the hopelessly confused coachman. The second I shut the door, Elsa flicks her wrist and I find myself covered in snow. I look into the flashing blue eyes of the very irritated woman across the carriage as I lightly brush the snow of my shoulders, trying to hide my amusement.

"Have I mentioned I hate possessiveness?" She says indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest. I shrug.

"Just trying to maintain the illusion that we're a couple." I say innocently, widening my eyes in mock hurt at her tone. She huffs with annoyance, our knees lightly bumping together with the closeness of the dark carriage.

"Don't touch me again." She snaps. I laugh.

"Was that a challenge?" I smirk, she glowers daggers at me across the carriage.

"you bet it was." She hisses, clearly furious. I notice small wisps of frost snap from her lithe figure, the white tendrils drifting like warm breath in the freezing cold.  
This should be interesting.

 **Elsa's POV  
** "you bet it was" I hiss, furious that he would presume to touch me in public.

_you don't really mind Elsa-_

I really have to figure out a way to shut out that irritating voice. Suddenly, in an unexpected movement, Hans seizes me by the waist and throws me over to his side of the carriage; I have to bite back a shriek, conscious of the coachman. I land beside him, my legs falling over his lap. I glower at him, pushing my hair back from my forehead. With one hand pressed against my chest to prevent me from sitting up, I have to resort to leaning back on my elbows, glaring daggers at him as he deliberately bites the tip of his right glove, pulling his hand down and out of it. He tosses it away and turns his attention back towards my struggling body, fully preoccupied with getting out of his hold, I'm too wary to snap freeze him, not after I burnt him, and I can't blast him in a space this small.

_Besides Elsa, I'm not convinced you're that desperate to escape._

I try and slam the door on the small voice, but it only resurfaces stronger when he slides his hand up the split of my dress, lifting it up and sliding his uncovered hand up my leg, trailing deliberately up the pale flesh until he reaches my upper thighs. His hand stills as he looks into my eyes and smirks in the same arrogant way he always does, I glare daggers at him, trying to fight the rising arousal. It's with surprise I realise my body  _likes_  this situation. His hand lightly works my underwear to the side as I glare at him, his hand stilling.

"Don't you dare" I hiss. He tosses me a smug smile before he pushes two fingers inside me hard. I can't help but let out a gasp and arch my back, the simmering flames bursting inside me with a blast of heat. Hans leans down and lightly bites my ear.

"Don't challenge me." He whispers into my ear as he presses his fingers into me hard, the fire raging through me. The Ice maiden is frantically telling me to stop, that this is belittling, undignified; I'm in a moving  _carriage_ for god's sake, and yet I find myself ignoring her, the pleasure rising inside me. The flames send my already scattered wits further away, Hans presses his lips to mine in a searing kiss, the heat between us almost blinding as he thrusts his fingers into me harder. The fire pours down my veins like blood, a near painful sensation underneath my pale skin as he presses his rage towards me, his hatred for me and his desire through the kiss, so powerful I gasp. He breaks the kiss slightly, his lips hovering just above my own.

"You know, I didn't think this would be your thing, isn't it a little," he thrusts into me especially hard making me hold back a cry "Demeaning for you?" he smirks, his green eyes glittering.

"Bastard" I find myself gasping, he leans down and chuckles against my throat before kissing my cheek, then my wildly beating pulse as his hands encourage the escalating pleasure inside me. The fire inside me licks higher, burning me, torturing, I bite my lip against a cry as the flames explode inside me, heat radiating through my body in my climax, shuddering through me, almost painful. I release a low moan before I shut my eyes, exhausted. Hans chuckles smugly.

"This is what happens when you dare me" he says in his low voice, I flutter my eyes open and stare into his sparkling green eyes. He leans down, placing his hands on the seat either side of my head, kissing my ear then neck.

"Next time you do it, I'll fuck you senseless." He whispers against my ear, I shiver at his words, not doubting his sincerity. He raises his hand to his mouth and delicately licks his fingers clean with a drawled murmur of pleasure. I glare at him.

"Your disgusting." I say flatly. He shrugs before putting his white glove back on.  
Hesitatingly, I sit up in the seat, my body feeling oddly weak. He notices my gentle movements and smirks again; I glower at him, my wits slowly crawling back to me. Not a moment too soon, as the carriage stops. I groan before the carriage door swings open and I stumble out. Hans quickly grabs my hands, preventing me from tripping over, an innocent look of concern on his face.

"Is everything Alright Elsa?" He asks, his voice blameless. I glare at him.

"Fine." I snarl, irritated with myself, but I don't snatch my hand back like I itch to do, I lay it on his sleeve, annoyed that I probably do need to lean on him a little. I straighten my back and focus my mind on the task ahead, which was not going to be easy. I stare up at the imposing castle in front of me, the word Gothic flies to mind. Clearly built before the Renaissance, which is when my own palace was constructed, this hulking structure is more akin to a fortress then a palace, made of grey stone which has been warn smooth by the elements, my eyes travel up the enormous structure, the square structure slowly peters off into small towers with delicately winding turrets, flying buttresses linking the towers together dramatically. The final crowning glory on this gothic masterpiece is the enormous spire, which blots the sun from my view, the shadow falling over my face as I admire the ribbed pinnacle, so often seen in cathedrals and churches, but hardly ever seen in a castle. The windows are encased in stone frames with surprisingly delicate carvings, the lead roof punctuated be gargoyles with open mouths, ready to collect rainwater and spout it out again. I'm so caught up in the majesty of the Romanesque building that it's only when Hans nudges me with his elbow that I conscious of the crowd, reminiscent of my own coronation only a year ago, stopping and staring, not just peasants, but nobility and dignitaries as well. An almost awkward silence descends upon the hushed throng. Well, I do imagine we make quite the pair, The Snow Queen and the Wayward Prince. There are a few hesitant bows, I roll my eyes and dip my head in a gesture of acknowledgment whilst Hans does the sketch of a bow. This seems to speed the process along, the crowd all bow like puppets. Hans gestures to the doorway.

"Shall we?" He asks in his low voice, I nod before we quickly sweep towards the entrance to the castle. As we depart the mob, the hushed comments begin.

" _was that-"_

" _What is SHE doing with HIM-"_

" _didn't he try to steal her throne?"_

" _what's HE doing here?"_

By the time we enter the double wooden doors with iron inlay, the whispers have grown into a buzz. All in all, just the reception we were expecting. The doors slam shut behind us ominously, I glance at our surroundings.

"Oh, my."

We are in a high ribbed vaulted room; multi-coloured light floods in through stain glass windows which circle the walls, the room is narrow but huge and echoing, the walls are the same grey stone as the exterior. A path is cut to the dais by two rows of intricately moulded arch ways made of limestone, they gather up into the cavernous roof with its ribbed arches, meeting in the middle. The colourful light reflects onto a floor of more flawless marble, the seemingly endless surface leads up to three steps, where on a platform, the throne of the Southern Isles rests, an imposing chair that seems to be filled with sovereignty. The crown sits on the throne on a red velvet cushion.

"Impressive huh?" Hans murmurs, I nod, my eyes fixed on the room.

"amazing." I breathe. Hans gently tugs me forward, our footsteps echoing in the silence of the imposing room.

"Well Well Well. Wasn't expecting to see you here little brother."

A smooth voice speaks in front of us, echoing across the room. I feel Hans stiffen beside me, my eyes flick up to see one of his brothers, who seems to match the room: Huge. Easily the tallest man I had ever seen, muscles bulge form underneath a black shirt. He has Hans's auburn hair and fair skin, but his eyes are not emerald but jade, hard and lifeless. His mouth has an ironic twist to it and he has a slight scar underneath his eye, the overall effect is somewhat attractive, but very threatening.

"What, you thought I'd miss this?" Hans chuckles, his easy tone belying the tension singing through his body. Out of the corner of my eye, I see five more brothers enter the room and remaining by the door, observing the scene with interest. I hear an unfamiliar voice speak softly from the door.

"Is that Hans-" he is quickly hushed as Dominic speaks.

"Well no, I suppose I'm really not that surprised." Dominic smiles, his jade eyes hard and ruthless. He steps down from the dais, striding towards us. He stops about an arms-length away from us, out of the corner of my eye, I notice Hans run his fingers across his wrist, his hands behind his back.

"However, I don't recall inviting you" He sneers, Hans chuckles, the tension between the brothers palatable in the air.

"Oh, you didn't. I was heartbroken." Hans says in mock hurt, sarcasm dripping from his tone.  
Seemingly for the first time, Dominic notices me.

"What I am surprised with, little brother, is that you brought a friend." He says as his gaze travels up my body, raping me with his eyes. His eyes come to rest on my face, I'm careful to keep it blank.

"My My, a pretty one at that." He says, his eyes glinting predatorily, I force down a shiver.

"I didn't think you liked whores?" he leers at me, his brother's snigger. At his words, I fight the urge to blast him in his own private eternal winter. Somewhere it triggers that the noise was caused by more than five mouths, a quick glance confirms that a further 4 has joined them, bringing the total to 9, the only ones absent being Eveard and Peter, who are in Corona. My palms itch to encase them in ice where they stand, but I remain still, staring unflinchingly into Dominic's hard eyes. Despite my powers, I feel a small flicker of fear in my heart.

"I don't." Hans says simply. Dominic steps forward and roughly grabs my chin, tilting my face from side to side, examining my profile. I fight the urge to snap freeze him and simply stare impassively into his face, only just tolerating his rough examination of me.

"What, she fucked you freely?" he laughs, his eyes leaving my face, flicking towards Hans, who sighs theatrically.

"Unlike you brother dear, I don't have pay women to sleep with me." He says flatly. Dominic shrugs before turning his attentions back towards me, a glint of lust in his eyes. Briefly, I thank god for my powers.

"Oh, I do like her little brother, we all do." He smirks, gesturing to the group of auburn headed princes gathered in the corner of the room who all murmur their agreement.

"Why don't you share? She can be your coronation gift to us!" he laughs, his left hand coming up to cup my breast, I flinch at the repulsive sensation before he drops his hand again.

"No." Hans says flatly, I can just see his impassive expression out of the corner of my eye, unable to tilt my head to look at him, my face still being subject to Dominic's examination.

"We wouldn't hurt her-much." An unpleasantly high pitched voice giggles from the group. Hans chuckles darkly.

"it wasn't her I was worried about." He says, his voice earnest. Dominic laughs, a hollow sound full of disdain.

"your concern for us is…touching Hans." Dominic says, his eyes resting on the pale flesh of my exposed shoulder, he licks his lips, making me shiver with repulsion. Hans sighs.

"You really don't want to do this." He says mildly, Dominic laughs.

"Aw, your so protective over your little slut. However, your forgetting Hans, there is nothing stopping us from killing you, and then raping your whore next to your cold, dead body." He smirks, I feel a barb of anger pierce my heart, the room temperature starts to drop, Hans notices and glances at me, his eyebrow raised, but thankfully none of the other brothers realise the warning signs of one very, very furious snow queen.  
Dominic suddenly quickly hooks his arm around my waist, pressing me close to him. Probably against his wishes, I don't struggle, but the temperature drops lower, out of the corner of my eye I see one of the red heads shiver, noticing the sudden cold.

"Do you have a name sweetheart?" he asks intimately as he leers down at me. The silent fury inside me is raging, but I am outwardly calm as I smile softly, my eyes colder than the ice I wield before I speak for the first time.

_**"Elsa."** _


	5. chapter 5

**Thanks for your lovely reviews of the last chapter…I love the theories which you guys keep coming up with…better than anything I could write!  I love hearing your suggestions, and some of them are going to be included in later chapters…the story has only just begun!**

**-Ava**

**Elsa**

With that one syllable, my tenuous control over my anger snaps.  The urge to get this monster’s slimy hands off me is enormous.  My body temperature drops to icy, curls of white frost snap around me like tendrils, lashing out at Dominic, whose eyes widen before he quickly pushes me away, trying to knock me over, clutching at his frost-burnt hands.  His repulsive brothers quickly try and come to his aid, rushing towards me, swords drawn.  I roll my eyes impatiently before I flick my wrist at them, summoning a blizzard to quickly capture them and throw them against the wall, _hard._  Dust reigns down from the ceiling from how powerfully they hit the stone before they fall to the ground, stunned, several of them unconscious from the sheer force of the impact.  Three stagger to their feet and try and get up, as much as I admire their persistence, this is getting annoying.  I quickly run my fingers through the air as my magic flows through me like a second heartbeat as I encase the brothers in a raging blizzard, like a winter bubble.  The dark joy inside me blooms with the free use of my powers, I hear Hans slowly back away from me and my display of power, something that makes a smile tug at the corners of my mouth.   
I turn my attention back towards the disgusting rapist in front of me, my left hand remaining trained on the brothers, keeping them in the blizzard against the wall before I move threateningly towards  the repulsive man who plays at being a prince.   It’s time I repaid him back in kind for his handling of me.  His jade eyes meet mine, wide with fear, shock and hatred before I smirk at him.

“You see, I’m not a whore.  I’m A Queen.”

The frost tendrils swirling around me quickly latch onto his arms and torso, winding themselves up his body like a white rope of mist before I channel my powers, the frost quickly turning to bindings of ice.  I flick my wrist, summoning an icy blast to hurl him against the stone column in front of us, he hits it with a sickening crunch that breaks my ice ropes, making the broken shards of ice pierce his body, a light sheen of blood sprinkles over the limestone pillar before he is dropped to the ground by my icy wind, groaning.  My hands drop to my sides, releasing the now well and truly battered brothers from the snowstorm.  

“Jesus Elsa, I said scare them, not _destroy_ them.” Hans mutters, I glance up at him to see a pleased smirk on his face, at odds with his words of reprimand.  I shrug.

“They were begging for it.  Besides, I didn’t kill them!” I argue, he chuckles before gesturing to the groaning body on the floor, tiny icicles covering his chest, blood welling up from the wounds and trickling onto the marble floor.

“You came pretty damned close.” He laughs before taking my shoulders and turning me towards him.  For the first time, his eyes are smiling as well as his mouth.

“Thanks.” He says softly, green eyes shining.  We hear a laugh which breaks into a cough in front of us and we both turn to look at the bleeding, wounded and thoroughly battered Prince Dominic. 

“Ah, _that_ Elsa.” he chuckles as he grasps onto the column behind him to struggle to his feet, I stare at him icily, unspeaking.  

“You must forgive your…reception-“he begins to say, I cut him off imperiously.

“Must I?” I ask coldly, he ignores my icy interruption and continues.

“None of us had ever seen you before, and you’re with _him._ ” He says, hissing the last word violently.  I glance up towards Hans who is smiling brightly at his words.

“It’s remarkable the enemies which come together to defeat a common foe.” I say coldly.  Dominic’s eyes flick over me, his gaze no longer filled with lust but with calculation.

“And what did we do to deserve your wrath?” he sneers, his hands staunching the trickle of blood, which is slowing.  The ice didn’t damage anything, I doubt if it will even scar, but it would hurt like the devil.  I raise an eyebrow haughtily.

“Plan to invade my kingdom.” I say coolly.  Dominic’s gaze flicks to Hans, narrowing his eyes at him hatefully, clearly aware of whom told me of his intentions.

“Guilty as charged brother dear.” Hans says brightly, clearly enjoying himself.  Dominic draws himself to his full height, clearly trying to intimidate me.  I can’t help but be vaguely impressed, he must be in tremendous pain and yet he still cuts a threatening figure, even with the front of his shirt lightly covered in blood.   I hear a few groans coming from the direction of the heap of auburn headed brothers, my gaze flicks to them to find 5 brothers staggering to their feet.

“Bastard.” One of them snarls at Hans, flipping his long shaggy chestnut fringe out of brown eyes.  Hans gives the tall slim man a cheery wave.

“Nice to see you too Dietrich.” He says pleasantly, the picture of sarcastic joy. 

“For shame Hans.  We haven’t even been properly introduced.” A warm voice speaks, coming from a strawberry blonde prince with steely grey eyes.  Hans chuckles beside me.

“Forgive me.  Brothers, as you’ve probably figured out, this is her royal highness, Queen Elsa of Isen, Ruler of the Crystal Glaciers and all beyond, sovereign of the Rime seas and the once and future Queen of Arrendelle **”** he says, using my rarely known full title. Usually I’m just called Queen Elsa of Arrendelle (speeds things up at meetings) but most people either forget or don’t know that Arrendelle is merely a section of an even larger kingdom known as the Isen, which stretches from the Crystal Glaciers in the north to the Rime seas in the east.  I glance at him in surprise; how does he even know my full title?

“Your Majesty, you already have met my brother, Prince Dominic.” He says smoothly, gesturing to the bleeding man in front of me.  He lightly takes my shoulders and turns me towards the group of red headed brothers; the one feature they all seem to share.

“My second oldest brother, Prince Eon.” He gestures towards a burgundy haired man, tall and otherwise unremarkable, if it wasn’t for his frankly terrifyingly blank dark green eyes, cold and calculating like a sharks.  Hans leans down and murmurs in my ear. 

“Be careful of him especially Your Majesty.” He mutters, I nod almost imperceptibly. 

“my third and fourth oldest brothers, Prince Edward and Prince William.” He gestures to a fidgeting tall man with hazel eyes and flame licked red hair who I take to be Edward, and a slightly shorter man with strawberry blonde hair and steely grey eyes, who is wearing a slappable smirk which only Hans could match.  The light haired man does the sketch of a bow.  “And then we have Nikolai and Gregory.” He continues, my eyes flick over a scrawny man with stormy blue eyes and chestnut coloured hair, with only a hint of red in it and a taller more muscular man with flashing amber eyes and claret tinted hair. “You will have to forgive the absence of Peter and Eveard, they are…detained at present.” He chuckles before continuing on with this ridiculous formality.  “The one on the ground is Oberon,” he gestures to an unconscious man who has not recovered from being tossed against the wall.  “You’ve already had a brush with sweet Dietrich,” he says, waving his hand dismissively at the boy with narrowed brown eyes, unlike the others, he doesn’t bother to hide his hostility.  “Lastly, we have Luca and Alexi.”  He says, pointing to two more boys passed out on the marble floor.   

“If I may be so bold your majesty,” Edward, the fidgeting man asks “what on earth do you think you’re doing?  This is a direct insult to the royal family of the Southern Isles-“ He begins, amber eyes flashing before the brother known as Eon quells him with a look from his blank bottle green eyes.

“Oh, I think the Queen knows exactly what she is doing.  I would have thought blackmail would be a bit beneath the Royal family of the Isen.” He says in a bored monotone, his eyes revealing nothing.  I feel myself stiffen at his words.

“I am not my father.” I say shortly, my voice sharper then I would have liked.  Dominic chuckles softly.

“You certainly are not.” He says lecherously, his eyes travelling up the length of my body hungrily.  Honestly, I just threw him against a wall and he is _still_ entertaining thoughts of that nature?!  Hans senses my hackles rising and quickly intervenes.

 “You see brother; I can’t just sit by while you destroy my kingdom, and then my associates.” Hans says in his low voice, his words dripping with venom as he gestures to me. “We decided it was in our interests to work together to destroy you.  I have an ultimatum for you Dominic.  Cede the throne to me before your coronation, or my dear friend here will blast you in enough ice to last a millennia.”  Dominic eyes Hans with loathing before turning his attentions back towards me.

“Your Majesty, I implore you.  Don’t work with a…monster like him.  If you swear to withhold your powers against us, we won’t invade Arrendelle, your kingdom will be safe.”  He says, staring into my blank expression.  The ice maiden inside me is yelling to accept the deal; my goals would be accomplished.  But part of me doesn’t want to leave Hans here, practically helpless against his brothers, besides, what was the word of a rapist and murderer?  I inwardly sigh, knowing that this would require serious thought. 

“I shall think on your offer.   If you will excuse us.” I say shortly, my voice cold.  Dominic smiles sarcastically before doing a short ironic bow.  I grab Hans’s elbow and tug him towards the door.  I hear a sword unsheathe behind me from the direction of the brothers, I sigh before I raise my hand, not turning around.  I smile satisfactorily as I hear a cry of pain, then a clatter as the ice encased sword is dropped to the ground.   
We win that round.

**The Brothers.**

“we are so screwed.”

The unpleasantly high pitched voice of Alexi sounds through the echoing chamber, Dominic glances at the group of auburn headed princes, most of them staggering to their feet to a chorus of groans and whimpers of pain, except William who was trying to wake up the unconscious Oberon.   Eon shakes himself and strides over to the wounded and frantically thinking Dominic.  The two brothers glance at each other, their eyes communicating wordlessly.

“He’s right you know.  With the Snow Queen on his side, we don’t have a chance.” Eon mutters, ever the rational one. 

“I know, I know.” Dominic growls, his jade eyes flashing.  

“What I don’t get,” Edward starts, moving towards the two brothers in the centre of the room, “Is how our repulsive excuse for a younger brother got her on his side in the first place.”  He points out petulantly, smoothing his burgundy hair away from his youthful looking face.   Dominic shrugs.

“The smarmy bastard probably just fed her some sob story.”  Dietrich snarls, his shaggy chestnut hair falling over his brown eyes.  Dominic shakes his head impatiently.

“No, the wench is smarter than that.” He mutters, almost to himself.  A groan from the corner of the room tells them that Oberon has finally been roused, but none of the gathered four brothers even turn around.  They are joined by William, Nikolai, Gregory, Luca and Alexi, Oberon is left propped up against a pillar.

“He probably just bedded the bitch.  She could be easily controlled through sex, and Hans would know it.  He isn’t an idiot.”  Nikolai points out, crossing his weedy arms over his thin chest, narrowing his stormy blue eyes.

“Anyway, that’s not our problem.  Our problem is getting her out of the way.” Eon states, silencing the murmurs of speculation from the 9 brothers, Oberon having stood shakily and joined them. 

“are you serious?  Did you _see_ what she did to Dominic?” Alexi squeaks, clearly petrified.  Dietrich clips him over the back of the ear, glaring at him.

“Grow a spine.” Dietrich snaps, blowing his fringe out of his eyes. 

“Besides,” Edward starts, running a hand through his spikey burgundy hair, his hazel eyes narrowed, “We can’t kill her, at least, not by our usual methods.” He finishes. 

“she would encase us in ice before a sword was even drawn.” Oberon growls, his voice surprisingly deep for someone as youthful looking as he.  Gregory, who had drawn the sword against Elsa laughs dryly, still clutching his hand.

“that’s for damned sure.” He mutters. 

“So, not a sword.   Poison then?” William mutters, his warm friendly voice at odds with his murderous words.  Eon shakes his head, his calculating bottle green eyes coming to rest on Dominic.

“No Poison.  After the cyanide didn’t kill our dear brother, I am loathe to use it again, it’s too unpredictable.”  Eon says, his voice clear and cold.  Gregory and Oberon murmur their agreement.

“Could she fight against fire?” Luca squeaks.  Dietrich rolls his dark brown eyes in frustration with his younger brother.

“Duh.  All she would need to do is channel more ice then there is fire.” He snaps, his voice irritated.

“who says we need to kill her?” Eon says finally, his voice slow, his mind clearly ticking over.  Brown, Green, blue, grey and hazel eyes stare at him in silence before Luca splutters in disbelief.

“She waltzed in here, blasted us against the wall, nearly impaled you and then had the nerve to blackmail us in league with our repulsive younger brother!” he stutters, the other brothers murmur their agreement. 

“That’s why it would be a shame to kill her.” Eon says, rolling his eyes in exasperation.  Edward runs his hand through the front of his flame licked hair in his usual gesture.

“What are you suggesting?” the hazel eyed man asks.

“That the girl should pay.  And just killing her won’t do that.” Eon explains to his attentive brothers, who one by one slowly understand what he is proposing.  Gregory, Oberon, Dietrich, Luca and Alexi are immediately enamoured with the thought, but Dominic, Edward, William and Nikolai are more cautious.

“I doubt you’d be saying that if she didn’t have more curves then a scenic railway.” William chuckles, his voice deceptively warm and intimate, but his grey eyes are steely.   Eon raises an eyebrow at the sniggering group of auburn haired princes.

“Think of it this way; if we kill her, then it’s over, finished, she dies and we are no better off.  If we keep her, then not only could we use her powers, but we get to have some fun with her as well.  Think of it as exacting a very slow, humiliating, pleasure filled revenge.  Well, pleasure filled for us anyway.”  Eon says in his bored monotone, noting the resulting glimmer of lust in 8 pairs of eyes.  Dominic looks sceptical, his jade eyes considering and cynical.  Dominic knows that Eon is the main sadist of the group, he had seen the stony prince do things to a whore that nearly made _his_ hair curl, and he highly doubts Eon would be suggesting keeping her alive if he hadn’t…taken a shine to her.

“We still haven’t even figured out a way to capture her yet.” Dominic reminds them flatly.  Nikolai’s thin shoulders slump.

“Dominic’s right.  There is no way we could take her, let alone imprison her.” He murmurs, Dietrich nods, his long fringe flopping over his eyes.   Eon sighs with exaggerated patience.

“Why not?  Our younger brother did it.” He points out.   Gregory chuckles, his amber eyes flashing.

“Yes, but then she broke through cuffs of solid iron before blasting out of a stone wall.” Gregory says sarcastically.  The brothers fall silent, all of them musing over the situation. 

“well, unless we find a way to melt the snow queen, it’s hopeless.” Luca whines, his voice reminiscent of a puppy.

Suddenly, Dominic’s head snaps up, an idea strikes him. 

“melt her…of course…” He breaths, almost to himself.  The brothers look at him expectantly, confused.  Dietrich flips his chestnut fringe out of his eyes irritably.

“We already talked about this.  We can’t melt her, she would just put the fire out.” He snaps, Dominic glares at him fiercely.

“But what if the fire was inside her?  She couldn’t put it out then…Will, you said poison.” Dominic says slowly, the strawberry blonde prince nods.

“Yes, but we can’t slip her anything; she would be too wary, plus we don’t know how she would react to it, she is a creature of magic.” The warm voice speaks cautiously, the grey eyes unreadable.

“Besides, I thought you wanted her alive.”  Dietrich snaps, causing a wave of protest amongst the brothers.  Dominic silences them with a look from his hard pale green eyes.

“What if the poison doesn’t have to kill her?” He says, not really a question.  The brothers glance at each other, uncomprehending.

“What if there was something that could staunch her powers, destroy her ice with internal fire...all we would have to do is keep dosing her and she would be helpless… “ He says, warming to his idea, Edward locks eyes with Eon, Hazel meets with dark green, communicating silently.

“A nice idea, but does such a thing even exist?” Edward asks, running his hand through his shock of burgundy hair in thought.  Dominic’s face breaks into a slow predatory smile.

“Sun Drug.”

**Hans**

I frown, crossing my arms over my chest as I stare challengingly at the snow goddess in front of me, a small figure in the large dark room.

“I don’t know what you’re fussing about, I did what you wanted, O prince!” She exclaims sarcastically, throwing her hands up in the air before turning on her heel and trying to storm away from me in exasperation, but I quickly grab the base of her loose white braid tug her back towards me, if she is going to fight with me, then she is damned well going to face me.   However, on feeling her cool temperature against my torso, I decide that having her face me can definitely wait.  My free hand skims down her curves as she half-heartedly struggles against me.  I’m conscious of my hunters instincts taking hold and locking my muscles in that preternatural stillness all predators assume when stalking prey.  I try to tell myself that she isn’t prey, but to the more instinctive side of me, she definitely is.

“Let go of me.” She deadpans, her voice flat, but I hear a rougher tone to her voice that wasn’t there before, I smirk down at her, uncaring that she can’t see me.

“Never turn your back on a predator my dear.” I chuckle, she stills against me at my words before she huffs impatiently.

“You, dear Hans, are not a threat.” She says, her voice dripping with sarcasm.  I wind her braid around my hand before I tug her head back, baring her pale neck to me.  I lightly trail my lips down it before planting an open mouth kiss against her fluttering pulse.  Not a threat hmm?

Well, we shall see.

“No?  I did, after all, come oh-so-close to killing both you and your sister, and then taking your kingdom.”  I whisper softly into her ear before lightly kissing the delicate shell.   At the memory, she struggles against me once more, reminded of her very close brush with death.  Despite her hostile movements, I notice that rather than dropping, her body temperature is increasing.

“And you wonder why I don’t trust you!” She snarls, her queenly façade of ice completely diminished in the face of pure fury. 

God I love it when she is furious.

“Oh I **_know_** why you don’t trust me.  But you see your Highness,” I pause to softly move my spare hand around her waist, pressing her closer to me “You haven’t exactly given me cause to trust you. You didn’t refute my darling brothers offer.” I say, unable to prevent the small wave of anger at the memory.   I quickly spin her around, letting go of her hair, but not of her waist, she looks into my eyes, her beautiful face upturned and her cheeks flushed, blue eyes flashing like sapphires. “And I would be ever so disappointed in you if you accepted their deal.” I finish, flicking my thumb over her cheek.   She laughs darkly.

“I don’t see why I shouldn’t.  It would get me out of this ridiculous alliance.” she hisses, the venom in her words would leave any normal man reeling.  

I however, am not any normal man.

“I don’t see what’s so ridiculous about it.” I say, my eyebrows rising at her words, the sensation of her chest against mine is beyond distracting.  She gives a short burst of low laughter in response.

“You said it yourself O Prince,” she says sarcastically in what is fast becoming her nickname for me, “You came ‘oh-so-close’ to murdering me and my kin, before trying to take my crown!” She finishes, her whole face alight with anger and wrath, strangely making her look all the more beautiful.

“Ah yes, but have I tried to kill you since our…unexpected reunion?” I retort, she falters in her pure fury, her brow furrowing as she thinks over what I said before she tosses her head back, her confidence and conviction in her anger once more full.

“No, you only seduced me.” She hisses, I am unable to prevent a small chuckle.

“Oh, I seduced _you?_  Sorry Your Highness, but you seemed particularly…enthusiastic” I smirk, my tone beyond smug.  She glowers at my words.

“Your senses need work.” She snaps, her white hair falling free from the loose braid and falling down her back.  I feel something fall on my head, glance up and see a small flurry has started above us, which she has called by accident.  I arch an eyebrow, my mouth curving at the corners.

“Oh?  The flurry would disagree.  Did I strike a chord Your Majesty?” I say teasingly, unable to prevent myself from riling her further, an inexplicable urge to flirt with danger, to dance between dragon’s teeth, even though I rarely put myself in situations I can’t control.  The grey cloud snows harder as I stare into her deep azure eyes, a scowl marring her perfect features.

“Isn’t that what you live for?” she snarls, struggling to get out of my grip, causing her torso to rub against mine as a consequence.  I am half surprised to find myself getting inexplicably aroused by this encounter, little minx.  How **_does_** she do that?  I hold in my mind the prospect of controlling her, of making her mine and in doing that, holding her at my mercy, and yet when faced with this goddess of ice and snow, this angel of the cold, I find myself entertaining thoughts that are definitely not angelic.

“Oh no Your Highness, I’m far too ambitious for that.  Irritating you is just one of life’s pleasures.” I smile down into her furious expression, which brings to mind a raging storm, her eyes are the lightning bolts, flashing and exciting as she continues to struggle against me, trying to force herself out of my grasp.  However, we both know that she could snap freeze me anytime she wanted, so why isn’t she?  I think we both know the answer to that.

“Give me one good reason as to why I shouldn’t kill you.”  She snaps, demonstrating a very good point.  The Snow Queen didn’t really have any reason for keeping me alive, all she would need to do is kill my brothers and plant a puppet king from Arrendelle who would do as she said, probably that innocent brown eyed minister she was  inexplicably fond of.  My thoughts take a turn for the dark when I remember how he looked at Elsa and how she looks at him.  I imagine his hands on her, his lips on her creamy body, a surge of pure possessiveness rises in me like a dark sinuous cloud; it only increases when I look into her furious upturned face.  I don’t understand, I hate her, I KNOW I do, she almost ruined me, and yet, why is my mind filled with thoughts of fucking her senseless?

Why can’t she be like her sister?

Easily controlled Anna, trusting, naïve and sweet with a heart bigger than her self-control or sense, rather then an Icy cold snow queen with a beauty and a temper as dangerous as she is. 

“Because, Your highness,” I begin calmly before I quickly loop my arm underneath her and toss her over my shoulder easily.  She shrieks and quickly begins to lower her body temperature, but since our little midnight incident where she burnt me, she is more careful, so I just have enough time to quickly throw her onto the bed before she gets too cold to handle.  Her eyes are wide with shock and fury, oddly making her look all the more desirable.  “I think you need this.” I finish before I quickly place my hands by her neck, either side of her collarbone.  She rolls her eyes, clearly frustrated before she scoffs at my words.

“need what?  Annoyance?” she snarls before I lean down, lowering my face to her level, feeling her gaze bore into my face as I stare into her sapphire eyes, a smirk curving my mouth.

“No.  I think you need someone who argues with you,” I start, my voice low as I push her down onto the bed by her delicate shoulders “To challenge you,” I continue before I reach behind her and unclasp her dress.  Much to my surprise, I realise that she hasn’t frozen me solid yet.  Well Well Well. “Someone who puts you in your place.” I finish, an undeniable spark of lust flickers amongst the angry blue of her eyes.

“What place?  Queen?” she growls, her voice taking on a slightly rougher tone before I tug hard, pulling down the fabric of her dress, over her breasts and then over the pale flesh of her stomach.  I pause, stilling the fabric at her hips before I stare into her cerulean eyes, so much like the calm before the storm.

“No.  Human.”  I say softly, a flash of an undefinable emotion flicks through her eyes before I quickly press my lips against hers.  Immediately, she is fighting me through the kiss, pressing her soft lips to mine _hard_ as she runs her hand through my auburn hair, the one feature I share with my brothers. I lift one hand to lightly run my hand down her uncovered side, raking my nails down her pale skin, making her groan before lifting her hips, grinding against me, not breaking the fiery kiss as she runs her tongue across my lips, the sheer fury I feel radiating from her shocks me, and just fuels my desire.  She bites my bottom lip hard and yanks down, making me open my mouth for her tongue to enter as I place my right hand beside her head and lower my weight onto it, before I pull the dress over her hips, I hiss a small curse as the fabric rips, but both of us are to absorbed with the intoxicating feeling of hatred and anger mingling with desire and lust.   I break the kiss to renew my attentions on her breasts; I reach behind her and unclasp her bra, running my hand down her sensitive lower back, not ungently before taking it off completely and throwing it across the room.  I run a thumb over her light pink nipple making her bite her lip against a groan, her blue eyes flashing.  

“I hate you.” She spits, clearly furious with herself and me.  I find myself smiling in return.

“The feeling is entirely mutual.” I growl before I bite her breast, hard.  She quickly sets her hands to my jacket, quickly pulling it off my shoulders before she swiftly undoes my shirt buttons, I sigh in exaggerated patience before I sit up, kneeling over her, my knees either side of her waist as I quickly shrug it off.  For one fleeting instant, our eyes meet, both forest green and sapphire blue locked together, before I bend my head and my lips capture hers.  Searing, demanding, the kiss is nothing short of incendiary; it instantly sets our passions alight.  Within seconds, the blaze is roaring.  She reaches up, sinking her hands into my hair, tugging hard as the kiss rages, as desire, freed, erupts and races through both of us.   My hands slide up to close about her breasts, to knead with urgency and barely restrained aggression, I know I should be worried about bruising her, that she is delicate and can be broken easily, but now, in the midst of my anger, I **_want_** to hurt her.   I want her to look into the mirror and see the bruises I have surely left, I know that she is mine.  She matches me mark for mark, her hands run down my back, scratching me with her nails, making me bite her shoulder hard, something that would surely bruise.  We try to possess by touch laced with unassailable right; lids falling, she bites her lip against a moan at the surge of heat my blatantly possessive and rough caresses evoke, both of us fighting against the other, the pleasure mixing with pain.  Blindly, I reach down and strip her underwear off and toss them away with the dress.  I find her aching need, softly brushing my free hand over her as I kiss her hard.

 I still when she grasps me back, my blood pounding in my ears as I insistently push into her with two fingers, she arches her back, pressing her breasts against my chest as her nails dig into my shoulders, probably causing a series of small cuts along the hard lines of my torso making me moan and push into her harder and harder.   Suddenly, our eyes both flicker open.  We stare at each other, communicating wordlessly as we both still.  She lets go of me and I draw out of her before I quickly take my pants and underwear off and, kissing her hard, I push into her.  Once I am inside her, I quickly grab her hair and tug it to the side, exposing the smooth expanse of her neck, where I bite and nip the pale flesh as I start thrusting inside her, this time, I don’t set a slow deliberate pace, neither of us want unhurried gentle love making.  We want to hurt the other one, I slam into her, setting a punishing pace which leaves her reeling, but not for long.  She quickly matches me thrust for thrust, I am consumed by her, determined to see her begging, reduced to a lustful wreck as I watch her writhe and clutch the dark blue sheets, watching the flow of expressions, dramatic and intense, cross her beautiful face as I thrust harder, deeper, ever more powerfully.   I slam into her forcefully, I want her to surrender to me, I want to defeat her.  She nearly destroyed me, and I want to pay her back in kind, one plunge at a time.  She cries out, a sound which echoes within my soul, causing a dark cloud of possessive pleasure to rise inside me, I don’t bother to swallow it down, but let it rage.  She may be the ice queen, the ruler of a vast country and the poster girl for self-control, but right now, when she is underneath me, she is mine.  I control her, and she knows it.  Her eyes flutter open, the sapphire depths hypnotising, unreadable.  Hatred, desire and something undefinable mix, making my breath hitch.

Distracted with watching her, my own climax catches me unawares, an explosion so shattering I temporarily lose touch with the world.  All I know in those instances of searing pleasure, of incandescent heat, was the feel of her, the need to possess and defeat.   My wits smothered, my senses gilded, my heart thuds in my ears as I feel her heartbeat, solid and strong, echo within me.  Pleasure rolls over me in boundless waves.  A minute passes, and, with her eyes still closed, she reaches up and blindly traces my jaw line before I pull out of her and collapse beside her.   I feel something on my face and flutter my eyes open, and omit a breathy laugh.  There is snow everywhere.  I nudge Elsa beside me so her eyes flick open. 

“Your Highness, you really need to stop doing that.  I don’t know how you’re going to explain the small drift you have at the foot of the bed.” I say teasingly. With a groan she absentmindedly flicks her hand in a graceful gesture; I feel an icy wind caress my bare shoulders as she summons a breeze.  The small flecks of snow drift out the window, carried by her wind.  Her hand collapses back at her side before I sit up in the large bed, tangled in the sheets.  For the first time, I glance around the room, it is entirely unfamiliar to me, not that I should be surprised, the castle is huge.

We are in a large four poster bed with a dark blue brocade canopy, the room is echoing and dark, the walls painted black, and only four arched windows line the side of the chamber, allowing for small curved shapes of light to fall onto the wooden floor.  Other than the two arm chairs and the intricately moulded black marble fireplace at the other side of the room, there is no other furniture.  Elsa sits up in bed, pressing the sheets to her torso as her blue eyes flick coolly over the apartment.

“This has to be the most cliché thing I have ever seen.” She says flatly.  I bite my lip against a chuckle before I find my clothes intertwined amongst the dark blue satin sheets, and slip the midnight blue shirt on over my head.

“What can I say?  The Southern Isles royal family has always been a little…Dramatic.” I mutter, searching for my clothes.   She laughs, a unexpectedly warm sound that makes me glance up, surprised that such a sound could issue from her.

“So that’s where you get it from.” She murmurs, her gaze surprisingly devoid of its usual ice.  I find myself entranced by the sapphire blue depths, I can’t imagine looking away even If I wanted to.

“look.  I won’t take your brothers deal, I wasn’t going to.  I don’t trust him.” She says slowly, I am unable to prevent a smile of triumph.  She groans in exasperation.

“Your smugness astounds me.”  She says flatly, waving her hand at her body.   I watch, fascinated as I see another dress envelop her, different to her usual ice blue T line dress.  She stands from the bed, brushing down the silk of the new dress she had just created.  For someone who was undoubtedly more into paperwork and statistics, Elsa has a remarkable flair for creating beautiful things.  Her dress is in her usual style, alluring and yet subtle.   Her creamy shoulders are lightly covered with white chiffon covered in the same rhinestones which used to cover her train, which has now (thankfully) been shortened, now it only reaches a little below her ankles, and is made of white ethereal fabric, studded with glistening ice crystals.  The dress is figure hugging silk cream, the white corset bodes stems into a long flowing skirt, hemmed with her familiar snowflakes in the same ice droplets which sparkle, even in the dim light of the room.  In the centre of the dress, along her stomach, a large snowflake sits, cinching the fabric in at her slim waist.  Unbidden, I feel my eyes widen with shock, I’ve seen that dress before.

Except, when I last saw it, I was dreaming…

 

 **As you may have noticed, my interpretation of the Brothers of the Southern Isles is straight from Game Of Thrones.**  
I’d be very interested to hear from you about what you think of what I’ve done to the 12 brothers, I’m a little nervous!   
So the next chapter is going to be pretty dark, prepare yourselves! However, chapter  seven is the REAAALLLYY dark chapter, get ready fo dis!  
(I hope you know I would never seriously hurt my favourite Disney couple!) 

**Well, not much.**

**-Ava.**

**P.s: spot the merlin reference? ;)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, here it is, chapter six! It's really funny (in a sick way) for me, because in reality, I am about 6 chapters ahead of you guys! I know, I'm naughty!
> 
> -Ava

**Hans**

_I slam my hands against the wall of the frosted white cube; the movement makes no noise, my heavy breath coming out in little clouds of fog in the frigid air. What is this place? I groan in frustration before turning around and leaning against the wall, readying myself for whatever is to come. I know that whenever I am in this icy hell, I'm never alone. But where is she? The angel whose name I can never seem to remember, the snow goddess who is at once so familiar and yet so foreign. Suddenly, There is a searing, incredible heat bursting through the small box, like an invisible fire has been set, and I am caught right in the heart of it. I am seized by a terrible, gripping agony in my chest, I fall to the ground, the pain radiating from me in burning waves, I bite my lip against a whimper. What is happening? My mind roils in confusion and panic, unhelped when I see the ice walls of the cube slowly start to be threaded with tiny cracks of gold, like veins in skin. I clutch my hand to my aching chest as my bleary gaze travels around the now not so white room, when suddenly; I see a familiar pair of pale feet. My gaze travels up the creamy ankles to the same flowing white gown with the sparkling snowflake hem, but I don't manage to get to her beautiful face before I am gripped by the internal burning sensation once more, I give a strangled cry as I press my head to the ground, trying to shut everything out. She, the angel, is doing this, she_ _ **must**_   _be doing this, but this is so much more painful, so much more agony then the last time she killed me. I'm not freezing to death, that was gentle by comparison, agony blurs my vision as I force my head up to look at her, at the snow angel._

_Somehow, she doesn't seem that angelic anymore._

_Dark shadows are underneath her cheekbones, her ice blue eyes are even paler than usual, almost silver. I only notice now that the white dress has dark marks burned into it across the waist and across the snowflake hemline, the ice cube groans as yet more gold runs through it, like magma pouring down a glass. What is happening?_

" _What…is this?" I ask slowly, my words forced and cracking harshly against the blinding pain coursing through me. She smiles, the movement no longer breathtaking or pure, but filled with darkness and hatred. I feel a sinuous cloud of fear rise inside me, fogging up my already dulled senses as the burning sensation starts to numb my arms and legs._

" _All that's left to do, is to kill you, and bring back summer." She says softly, her low husky voice completely unchanged as she speaks the eerily familiar words. I have said them before, I know I have, but to whom, and why? I can't reach at the memory, my mind is alarmingly blank. I watch, fascinated as her eyes slowly turn paler and paler, the sapphire in them being erased in favour of the palest of blues, only one shade above white. What is happening to her? I press my hands against the stabbing sensation of my chest, almost like I'm trying to staunch the non-existent blood. I can feel myself slowly losing touch with the outside world, but one question nags at my slow mind._

" _Why would_ _ **you**_ _want to bring back summer?" I ask, glancing once more into her beautiful, haunted face. She is the snow angel, the goddess of ice and winter, why would she want to bring back the season of heat? She smiles slowly before holding out her palm in front of her, facing upwards. Time seems to slow, I'm not sure if it's because I'm drawing my last breaths, or if the witch has genuinely slowed the world. Something flickers in her hand; it dances with a life of its own, shimmering, beautiful, dangerous, my eyes are so blurred with the fog of pain that I can't see the defined shape, or indeed, what it is, the colours of the world seem to melt away, but I force my sluggish mind to focus. It's a snowflake, that's the shape. But something is wrong, this isn't right._

_The snowflake is made of fire._

**Elsa.**

I stare at the slumbering prince, lying down on the bed, his body highlighted by the moonlight filtering in from the open windows. I know that I could easily kill him now, when he can't talk, or fight, or even know what I am doing, but somehow, I don't. Anna would want me too, or at least, Anna wouldn't even want me in a bedroom with him, unlike the numerous suitors she forces upon me.

" _Come on Elsa, he is not that bad." She says, rolling her eyes as she crosses her hands over her shoulders. I pick up a snow globe that I have on my desk and shake it, the fake snow swirling around inside it, not with the panic or fear of a real blizzard, but gently and beckoningly. I sigh before slamming it back down on the desk harder then I intended in my frustration. I notice a small hairline crack appearing in the glass ball before I turn around, facing my sister._

" _Anna, I told you. He was boring and he tried too hard." I say flatly, reminded of the slightly tubby prince who Anna had talked into trying to woo me, not that he needed much convincing. As Queen of the Isen, I had a line of potential husbands. She blows her ginger fringe out of her eyes angrily._

" _You're far too picky Elsa. There's always something wrong, some flaw you don't like!" She snaps, her cheeks flushed pink with burgeoning anger. I hear a small snap behind me and see the crack in the snow globe has grown larger, I realise that my hand is resting on it, and that in my irritation, I'm channelling my powers into it._

" _forgive me for not falling in love with every would-be-king you throw at me." I say coldly, the crack in the globe growing larger. I fight to keep the temperature in the room level, but I feel it lower slightly. She huffs in irritation, clearly not noticing the small drop in temperature._

" _I'm not asking you to fall in love with them, just that you give them a chance! Look, what about The duke of Ionac?" She says, exasperated._

" _He chewed with his mouth open."_

" _the Tsarevitch of Vertaal?"_

" _did you_ **see** _his moustache?"_

" _the prince regent of Elmira?"_

" _tried to grope me."_

" _and what, you put an icicle through his heart?_

" _no, just gave him frostbite"_

" _like you did the Archduke of the flower kingdom?" she smirks, raising a brown eyebrow at me. I shrug._

" _he deserved it." I say coolly._

" _Look, anyone of them would have made a fine husband." She starts, I raise an eyebrow. She sighs and runs a hand through her fringe. "Okay, so maybe not the Prince of Elmira. But Honestly Elsa! What are you expecting, that you'll find your true love?!" She squeals, frustrated at my resistance to marriage. In truth, I am looking for excuses to not wed these suitors. I will rule on my own, with no yoke and chain. I know that my ministers want me to get married so that they can finally talk to a man about ruling the kingdoms, so that I have to cede the throne to my husband._

_No._

_This is my crown._

" _Anna, can't you understand that I just don't want to get married? That maybe I like being alone?" I say wearily. She snorts, unladylike._

" _No one wants to be alone." She retorts, firmly. I roll my eyes, knowing that to argue would be pointless. We stand in silence, heavy and weighted before she sighs._

" _Elsa, I'm sorry. I shouldn't force marriage down your throat; I just want you to be as happy as I am with Kristoff." She says softly, her blue eyes wide with apology. I smile._

" _And you think that for me, happiness will come with love? I'm sorry Anna, but I don't think that's going to happen." I say, my voice heavy with disbelief. She smiles sadly before uttering a phrase which seems oddly familiar to me._

" _oh Elsa. What would you know about love?"_

Oh god, what a day that had turned out to be.  
Hans suddenly sits bolt upright, I start in surprise from my position curled up on the couch, fracturing my thoughts. The sheets are tangled around his bare chest, which is covered with a light sheen of sweat, his breathing heavy, green eyes wide in a rare moment of total, unguarded fear.

" _Fuck!"_

He curses, running his hands through his tousled auburn hair, clearly he has forgotten I'm even in the room. I am unable to prevent my eyes from straying to his muscled chest, streaked by moonlight which streams in from the open windows.

"Bad dream?" I ask gently, his head snaps up, his glittering eyes widen as he sees me. There is a moment of silence before he laughs weakly.

"And you call me creepy" he says shakily, clearly still trying to recover from whatever nightmare he just had. I have an odd compulsion to find out, I'm desperate to know what has him so afraid, but I bite my tongue against the question, and shrug instead.

"I couldn't sleep." I say shortly. It was the truth, I had lay awake long after Hans's breathing deepened. Somehow, I just can't rid myself of this odd feeling I have, almost like a premonition. Of what, I can't yet tell, but my instincts tell me that it can't possibly be good. Hans smirks, his eyes once more blank. He reaches over the dark coverlet to pluck his midnight blue shirt from the twisted mess of linen and slips it over his chest.

"Oh? Why would Elsa, the Snow Queen, not be able to sleep at night?" he says, his voice the very epitome of mock pondering. I loop my arms around my bunched up knees before I raise an eyebrow.

"Actually, its-" I start to explain, but he holds up a slim finger in response.

"No, don't tell me, I want to guess." He says gleefully, a slappable smirk on his pretty face. I sigh with exaggerated patience.

"Fine." I say sharply. Hans laughs before silently pacing, his footsteps making no sound on the wooden floor.

"You're worried about the Isen and Arrendelle?" he says, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. I shake my head, he sighs theatrically, pressing his wrist to his head in a gesture of exasperation, reminiscent of a damsel in distress. I am unable to prevent a small chuckle, which he notes and smiles at.

"Alright, you're fearful of my darling brothers?" he says, moving around the sofa where I am sitting, standing behind me. I laugh dryly.

"Why on earth would I fear your brothers?" I say incredulously, He murmurs noncommittally. When he next speaks, his voice is right by my ear, making me jump.

"Oh, you don't, but you should." He says softly, his voice serious, his lips brushing against my ear, making me shiver.

"Why?" I ask curiously, brutally withholding the impulse to turn around.

"Because your Majesty, you have cornered them. And nothing fights more fiercely then a cornered man." He says before he gracefully climbs over the back of the couch and slides down beside me, his green eyes for once, not sparkling with mirth or mischief, but completely serious. Unable to bear the intensity of his gaze, I look away, down at my lap.

"Especially Eon. Dominic may have the muscles, and looks like he is the leader, but I assure you. Eon pulls the strings." He says softly, I glance back up to his face, my eyes questioning.

"What did he do to you?" I ask softly. He sighs before running a hand through the front of his hair, reminding me oddly of his brother Edward who has the same habit. He rests his elbow on the back of the couch, his fingers still curled in the front of his hair.

"I've seen him…do things. Things that make Dominic and the others look like little kittens." He says hesitatingly, his green eyes showing nothing. I tilt my head to the side, curious. There is something he isn't telling me, I'm sure of it.

"like what?" I ask quietly, unable to prevent my curiosity showing in my voice. He smiles and shakes his head.

"Some things, Your Majesty, you're better off not knowing." He says simply. The tone in his voice cautions me to not question any further. I will accept what he says, at least, for the moment. Silence descends on us, the castle, the city, the country still and sleeping.

"So, enlighten me. What keeps you awake so far past your bed time?" he teases. I glare at him, allowing myself to be riled by his patronising words.

"firstly, Your only what-one, maybe two years older than me. Secondly, if you must know, I was thinking about marriage." I snap, His mouth in its permanent half smile, he raises an eyebrow.

"my condolences to the groom." He says, his mouth quirking at the corners, I glower at him.

"very funny." I snap, riled.

"seriously Elsa, I'm flattered, really, but you're just not my type darling-" he begins to say, his voice all mock seriousness. I cut him off with an imperious wave.

"Not with you, you narcissist-wait, what do you mean, not your type?!" I snap irritably, slightly surprised. Considering all that has transpired between us, I am taken aback, and, though I'd never admit it, slightly offended. He chuckles.

"Don't take it personally Your Majesty, your just a little too…" he says teasingly, before he pauses, his gaze searching the ceiling as if the word he was looking for is written there. I roll my eyes.

"Powerful?" I suggest, his gaze flicks back to my face, a smile curving his lips.

"Stubborn." He says shortly, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course, you would want a more biddable wife, more easily controlled" I say, my voice showing disdain. His green eyes sparkle enthrallingly in the dimness of the room.

"uh uh uh Your Majesty, I don't discuss my love life, although I am becoming rapidly more interested in yours. Surely a beautiful queen of a large nation, with untold magic powers who just so happens to be single, would gain quite a bit of interest amongst the bachelors of royalty." He says teasingly. I sigh before looking back at the bed, not meeting his provocative gaze.

"As much as I hate to say it, you're right. I have had countless suitors." I say softly, enjoying the brief moment of uncomplicatedness with the irritatingly engaging man next to me.

"and turned away every single one of them…why is that?" he asks, his voice low and intimate. I turn my face towards him, shifting on the couch so one leg is tucked underneath me, the other dangling off the sofa.

"In my kingdom, a queen is…less preferable to a king. My ministers are practically begging me to get married, so they can start deferring to a man rather than me. That will never happen." I say forcefully, my conviction in my words absolute. He chuckles, making me gaze at him expectantly. He notices my chagrined expression and holds up his hands.

"Don't look at me like that, I was just feeling sorry for your ministers." He laughs. I relax a little, returning to a calmer state. "Surely though, you're Majesty, a marriage with another kingdom could be advantageous. I mean look at what brought us here, you basically have no army." He points out, his words echoing those of my ministers. If only Anna hadn't fallen in love with a god damned ice harvester. I mean true love is all well and good, but it's hardly going to protect our kingdom from invasion. I groan dolefully, knowing what he says to be true.

"I know, I know. You sound just like Johann, one of my ministers " I huff, burying my head in my hands, frustrated with my predicament. No matter how much I dig my heels in, it is close to inevitable I marry a prince for his kingdoms protection. I feel Hans stiffen as I mention my minister for agriculture, who was fast working his way to be my head advisor.

"My My, you two are rather close, aren't you?" he says dryly, I lift my head from my palms, glaring at his face, which has lapsed into a mask of mocking impassivity. I give a small laugh, which he raises an eyebrow at.

"Your jealousy would be funny if it wasn't so irritating." I say sweetly. He shrugs gracefully in response, totally unabashed. "Besides," I begin again, "possessiveness is something that I cannot abide by, O Prince." I finish, glowering at him. He smiles at me sweetly, with barely contained venom.

"Well then Your Majesty, you're going to have to learn too." He says simply. I huff in annoyance.

"I don't see why I should." I snarl, irked. He sighs, raising his eyes to the heavens, the very picture of pious tolerance.

"Because Miss Ice Queen, we both know that you're going to have to marry. You your Majesty, don't get the luxury of true love, unlike your sister. So really, you're going to have to put up with whatever undesirable qualities your chosen victim has, possessiveness included." He says bluntly, his voice devoid of its mocking flourish. I glare at him, crossing my arms over my chest, even though I know him to be right.

"doesn't mean I have to like it. I swear there are no decent bachelors in all the kingdoms." I growl, irritated.

"come now, what about the prince regent of Elmira? He is…handsome if you like that sort." He chuckles. I feel a sharp burst of anger as I remember the insolent ruler, who had the sheer nerve to grope me mid-waltz.

"No, I'll leave the fancying of tall blonde men to my sister." I say sharply.

"not a fan of the prince?" he laughs, noting my thunderous expression.

"He doesn't know how to keep his hands to himself, a quality which, in fact, you have in common." I snap, his languorous half smile grows.

"all the more reason to like him. So, the good prince tried with you did he? I take it by your murderous expression he didn't get very far?" he asks, amused.

"much to his irritation, no." I say shortly, before sighing, flicking my gaze towards the bed once more. "But it's Anna as well. She seems to equate my happiness with my getting married." I say, ending in a half chuckle.

"She doesn't know  _you_ very well, does she?" Hans says teasingly. I shrug.

"we were separated for 13 years. No, she doesn't. But I miss her." I say, the words slipping out of me, the instant they leave my mouth, I want to snatch them back.

"believe it or not, I understand." He says simply, I give a short burst of laughter.

"Oh, sure you do. You simply must pine for her, you know, the girl whose heart you stomped on?" I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. He sighs, over exaggeratedly.

"You're not familiar with the phrase Forgive and Forget are you?" he says, his voice damnably calm. My mouth quirks at the corners.

"No, do tell." I say, mock enthralled, leaning closer excitedly.

"It's a marvellous concept, also known as 'Moving On.' Clearly, you've never heard of it." He deadpans. I lean back from him and his distracting emerald eyes.

"I'm not sure how well that saying applies when it's used in the case of forgiving two attempted murders." I say sharply, crossing my arms over my chest defensively as I face him, challenging. Irritatingly, he doesn't rise to the bait.

"You attempted to murder me, remember that O righteous one?" he points out, his green eyes reflecting nothing but dry amusement. I shake my head irritably, my hair free, and falling irritatingly down my back.

"that's different. You were in my chambers, alone, at NIGHT. This is after you had already tried to kill me. I was naturally going to react the way I did." I say haughtily, daring him to disagree.

Which of course he does.

"Elsa, you had murder in your eyes the second you saw me. I ask you, would it have mattered if I was in your chambers at night, or in the castle courtyard in the middle of the day. You wanted to kill me, no matter where or what the circumstances." He says pointedly, raising a very good point. However, I naturally ignore it.

"You make it sound like I don't want to destroy you anymore." I laugh incredulously; he quickly seizes my wrists, dragging me closer to him on the settee, forced into a lower position against his chest, his hands holding my wrists captive on the patch of sofa next to him. I stare unflinchingly up into his enflamed green eyes, for once, the mask of impassivity dropping. I feel the heat rising from his torso, our faces tantalizingly close.

"Do you?" he asks simply, the green in his eyes glittering with fury and frustration. I raise an eyebrow, a smile playing on my lips.

"Yes." I respond teasingly, staring up into his thunderous face.

"Why?" he responds, his low voice devoid of any curiosity at all. I realise why he is asking; he doesn't want to know, but wants to see if I can answer the question. I toss my head defiantly, my white tendrils falling over my shoulders.

"Why wouldn't I?" I say, my voice one octave above petulant before he rolls his eyes. Suddenly, he presses my wrists back against my chest, forcing me to lie back against the sofa. My head falls against the arm of the couch, I glare at him irritably before he quickly places his hand next to my head, leaning over me he frees my wrists, only to slide his hands up my skirt, the fabric bunching at my waist as he runs his hand lazily up and down my now exposed leg.

"and here I was, thinking I had made an impression on you." He chuckles darkly, clearly annoyed. Despite the pleasant sensations rising from his touch, I manage to maintain my expression of icy displeasure.

"You did. Disgust." I say coldly, prompting another laugh from him before his hand leaves my leg to gesture at the tableaux he has placed us in.

"Doesn't look like disgust to me." He says smugly, a smirk on his face which I itch to slap off.

Or freeze off.

I press my hands against his chest, channelling ice into my hands, making him jump away from me and back onto the floor, standing in front of me, glowering. In a distinctly feminine movement, I sit up languidly, half curling my legs up on the couch, my hands placed by my side, my hair falling over my shoulders as I stare up at him through lowered eyelashes. It occurs to me the end result is somewhat erotic. He glowers down at me, irritated.

"You really are the most impossible woman I have ever met." He growls, running a hand through his hair. A smile curves my lips before I toss my hair back over my shoulder, baring my pale neck.

"Why?" I ask coyly. He gives a chuckle that's a cross between a laugh and an exhale before giving me a look of slow, leisurely appraisal.

"because, Your Majesty, you are also the most tempting woman I have ever met."

**The brothers.**

The brothers wait nervously inside the echoing council chambers, empty at this late hour. The curtains drawn, the absence of a fire in the grate makes the already dark hall seem even murkier, but for the air of nervous desperation created by the 6 brothers in the room. Nikolai cracks his knuckles in his irritating habit, Luca chews his nails, already bitten to the quick. There is the feeling of finality in the 6 brothers; they know it to be their last chance. If this doesn't work, then they are doomed. Suddenly, the door swings open, and two cloaked figures stride in. The brothers immediately leap up from their various positions in the room, all hurrying to greet their two colleagues. Gregory and Oberon flip the hoods back on their wooden cloaks, revealing the tell-tale auburn hair of the Royal family of the Southern Isles, one claret tinted, the other more of a dark brown, only the smallest hint of red in it.

"Well? Did you get it?" Dietrich snaps, already reaching the end of his short tether. Dominic clears a path between Edward and Alexi, holding out a hand. Oberon nods seriously before tossing him a small pouch.

"We had to slit a few throats, but we got it." He says, his deep voice showing no remorse, even in the face of his murderous words. Dominic opens the leather pouch, the brother's crowd around him, trying to catch a glimpse of the famed drug. Dominic dips his fingers inside it; they come out covered in an off-white powder, which glitters oddly in the darkness of the room, not entirely natural.

"it's pretty." Nikolai says indifferently, examining the sparkling substance. He glances up, meeting the amber eyes of Gregory. "what does it do?" he asks curiously.

"to us; it increases energy, hyper-awareness. It also causes a feeling of heat to spread through the body, allowing one to be warm even on the coldest of days, nothing to special. The drug works through the small portion of blaze magic woven into it, hence its rarity." Gregory recites a speech clearly given to him by the apothecary, at least, before he killed him.

"And what will it do to her?" Dietrich snaps impatiently. Oberon's dark blue gaze drops to the pouch of creamy white powder.

"well, we aren't really sure. It's never been given to someone with ice magic before, but if it starts a fire inside us, then presumably, it would thaw the ice inside her." Oberon shrugs. Edward runs a hand through flame licked red hair.

"how long does it last?" he asks finally.

"about 4 hours give or take. The apothecary did warn about something though. He said not to give someone more than one dose a day. He didn't say why." Gregory says urgently, the brothers give no sign of having heard, or indeed, payed attention in the slightest. The claret haired brother shrugs, unnoticed. The old fool was probably just being paranoid.

"So, how do we administer it?" Edward asks thoughtfully, pulling at a wild tuft of red hair. The brothers fall silent, all thinking. Suddenly, Eon, coming from the doorway, speaks in his cold calculating voice.

"We can't slip it into her drink or food. Our little brother would have warned her against that, after my last…tussle with him." He says, his words chillingly clinical. The brothers don't speak; merely look at each other nervously. Suddenly, with a loud noise which makes them all jump in their skittish state, another figure quickly rushes into the room, strawberry blonde hair hidden under a rough woollen cloak. He tosses back the hood, grey eyes steely, but pouting mouth curving in a smile.

"It's as we suspected. The titled whore is indeed fucking our little brother." He grins easily. A sweep of murmurs covers the brothers, thick in the heavy darkness of the large echoing room.

"Are you sure?" Nikolai asks, crossing his arms over his weedy chest. William laughs.

"Nikolai, he had her on a couch, hand up her skirts. I'm certain." He chuckles, the brothers snigger, with the exception of Eon, who has not moved from his shaded position by the doorway.

"You're a little too good at looking in keyholes brother." Gregory mutters, showing distinct disdain. William turns his head towards his younger brother, raising an eyebrow.

"Got the job done didn't it?" he says flippantly. Dominic shakes his head, interrupting the fight which would surely ensue.

"stop, both of you. Will, I'm not sure how this information helps us. We still don't know how to give her the drug." He sighs, grinding the heels of his palms into his emerald eyes.

"who said we had to give her the drug?" Eon finally speaks from the doorway, his face shaded by the dimness of the room. 8 pairs of eyes blink at him, confused. He mentally sighs.

"She is a creature of magic, she would be so sensitive to the drug, that only the smallest dose would be necessary for it to take effect" He says patiently. When the eight brothers show nothing more than confusion, he has trouble restraining the sharpness of his tone.

"I propose that one of us give it to her in the form of something she can't take back, however much she may wish to." He says, before giving a chillingly empty chuckle. The brothers glance at each other, almost nervously.

"what are you suggesting Eon?" Dominic asks finally, reflecting the question in the multi-coloured eyes of the 8 men. Eon smiles, a gesture thankfully hidden behind the cloak of shadows around him.

"a kiss."

**Hans**

I hear a knock on the door, the sound, echoing throughout the room, fails to wake the slumbering snow queen next to me, her eyelashes casting shadows across her plump cheeks, breathing gently. Her head is lying across my chest, legs curled up and a hand grasping the front of my shirt, lying on the couch where we had…consummated our argument the night before-or should that be this morning? Clearly she had awoken sometime in the night and put her dress back on, her curvy body once more hidden by white ethereal fabric. I stifle a yawn before extricating myself from her grasp, padding across the wooden floor, running a hand through my dishevelled hair. I swing open the door, to find my older brother William leaning against the doorframe luxuriantly, strawberry blonde hair highlighted by the beams of light falling on it from the high arched windows which line the corridor. His steely grey eyes take in my tousled appearance before smiling in his easy way. I tap my fingers on the door frame irritably, my arms not leaving the top of the wooden casing.

"my my, little brother. Running you ragged is she?" he chuckles, his voice warm, but an undeniable undertone of malice permeates it. I smile in response, a gesture filled equally with poison.

"no more then you wish she would you. Why are you here?" I ask bluntly, I have no time for my brothers games. I see his eyes flick to my wrists, his smile deepening in genuine pleasure now. I resist the impulse to snatch my ungloved hands away from his view. His flint eyes come back up to mine.

"I don't remember any of us inflicting those one's Little Brother…pray tell, how did they get there?" he chuckles, clearly delighted. I stare at him blankly.

"Don't you? I recall it in…most vivid detail." I deadpan, my older brother smiles in response.

"I'm sure you do. I'm afraid I'm the errand boy at present, Dominic wants to see you. Now." He says, the steel I know to be inside him come's through at the last word. I smile brightly.

"How nice for Dominic." I say sweetly, going to close the door on his face, but I am stopped by a pale hand. I raise an eyebrow at him impatiently.

"You're not going to want to miss this little brother. I promise you." He says, his voice, which should have been serious, is filled with amusement. I inwardly sigh. In all likelihoods, it's a trap, but what can they possibly do? Even if they do capture me, then all Elsa would need to do is wave her hand and I would be freed, and they would be in a worse position then they were before. I glance at my languorous older brother before sighing.

"Let me get my coat." I say flatly, before turning on my heel and shutting the door. Rather than grab the white jacket, I quickly walk to the slumbering queen. I lightly shake her shoulders, her eyes flutter open and spark first in recognition, and then in irritation that I woke her.

"I'm going to see my brothers. If I'm not back in about 20 minutes, you should probably go to the throne room and do what you do best." I smile, remembering yesterday's delightful events she groans, covering her eyes with her hand, shading them from the sunlight coming in through the arched windows.

"alright alright." She grumbles, annoyed. I lean down and plant a kiss on her pale forehead.

"Don't you have an obvious trap to go to?" she mutters irritably, closing her eyes again. I laugh at her cynicism before I take the hint. I grab my jacket, slipping it-and my gloves-on. I quickly open the door to find my brother vanished; I shrug before glancing back at Elsa, who has managed to fully rouse herself and is sitting up, running a hand through her messy white hair. I toss her a teasing smile before blowing her a kiss, quickly shutting the door against a snowball.

**Elsa**

I tweak the hemline of my dress, pulling it back into its correct place along my collarbone, the ethereal white material covering my shoulders once more. I sigh before turning away from the looking glass, uninterested. Hans has only been gone about 5 minutes, and already, I'm looking for something to do. It feels surreal to be bored, usually I'm up to my eyes in paperwork, but I'm actually looking for something to do. I laugh at the irony. I hear a soft click, almost like a door closing softly; I freeze before I whirl around, my shortened train making a soft whooshing tinkling noise, as the ice droplets brush against the ground. The door is empty; nobody is there. I relax slightly, shaking my head at myself before I lower my hands which had automatically been raised to defend myself. I quickly flounce down to the couch, flinging my length upon it dramatically. At least there could be some books- I sigh.  _I wonder how long it's been since Hans left?_

"bored Your Majesty?" I hear a familiar chilling monotone, my eyes widen and I quickly scramble to my feet, forcing my expression into one of arrogant confidence, rather than one of fear. However, when I look into a set of dark green eyes, I get an eerie feeling he can look right through me. I raise my hand, proud of how steady it is.

"Why are you here-Eon is it?" I ask calmly, making a show of not remembering who he is, even though I am very well aware. I stare into his attractive, but oddly emotionless face, his bottle green eyes flat and boring into me.

"You know, it really is remarkable." He says softly, ignoring my pressing question, studying me leisurely. I can't help but get annoyed at his words. I cross my arms over my chest.

"What is?" I ask irritably, flicking my white hair over my shoulder. His eyes come up to meet mine, still alarmingly blank. I have the strangest sensation, like I am a child again. I inwardly shake my head at myself in irritation.   _Get it together Elsa._

"How a little girl like you thinks she could ever be a queen." He says softly, his words, which should have shown malice, are startlingly empty, his voice never leaving the bored monotone. I raise an eyebrow, holding back my fury…just.

"This little girl blasted you against a wall yesterday…and can do it again." I grin viciously, raising my hand. He rolls his eyes in a gesture of exasperation before slowly moving around the couch, with an unhurried predatory grace. My instincts are telling me to run, to run faster than I ever have, but I make myself stay. I will not show weakness.

"I don't doubt it." He says mildly, his voice not merely stony, but empty. I raise an eyebrow, coldly furious. He halts one step in front of me, his dark green eyes flat and glassy. I ruthlessly suppress the urge to back away, and instead glower at him coldly.

"Then for your sake, I suggest you get out. Now." I say commandingly, my gaze colder than the ice I wield. For the first time, I hear him chuckle, a sound which makes me feel like a bucket of water has been tipped down my back. I am unable to prevent a small flinch, which he notes.

"Authoritative, aren't you? Undesirable, but that can be fixed." He smiles, showing white teeth that almost seem to be pointed, finally, a glint of…something I don't recognise in his eyes. I realise, looking at him, I preferred it when he was blank. I allow some of my powers to come to the edge of my fingertips, controlling myself-only just.

"I'm sorry, but you're really in no position to make personal remarks." I deadpan, daggers in my gaze. He tilts his head, assessing me like a sheik would a slave, almost like he is making an inventory. Again, the odd feeling that he can stare straight through me.

"You know, you really are very pretty. I like hurting pretty things." He say's chillingly calmly. I am unable to prevent my eyes from widening at his words, a spark of fear running through me.

"There, that's better. A wide eyed look of fear on your pretty, pretty, face." He says, his empty gaze searching my eyes. I manage to regain control of my expression, and lurch it back to cold impassivity when, suddenly, he grabs the back of my neck and presses his lips to mine in a rough, violent kiss. For a moment, I am shocked into inaction, I merely stand, surprised that he would dare go this far. I am awoken from the odd moment of pure astonishment by his tongue forcing its way into my mouth. I shriek, suddenly aware of what's transpiring, struggling in his grasp. Oddly, this merely seems to enflame him further, making him wrap his arm around my waist and crush me to him. I reprimand myself for my stupidity, I don't need to struggle in his iron grip, I just need to collect my powers. I quickly lower my body temperature to just above freezing, not caring about if I hurt him. I just need to get him  _ **away**_ from me. He quickly releases me, and I back away from him, my hands, which are now trembling, stretched out the front of me. His glassy green eyes are terrifyingly blank, even after what just transpired.

"do you have a death wish?" I snarl, any hope of impassivity diminished by the forced kiss. He notes my shaking hand, and smiles the same chilling pointed grin.

"The question is, little girl, do you?" he says, his voice emotionless. I still in my backing away, confused.

"what are you talking about?" I snap, tired of things being kept hidden from me.

"oh, you'll find out soon. Very soon." He says simply, his bottle green eyes reflecting nothing. I shake my head, furious. I don't have time for this. Suddenly, I remember something.  _Shouldn't Hans be back by now?_

"what have you done with Hans?" I ask flatly, my eyes shooting daggers at him. He shrugs.

"me? Nothing." He says, smiling in his eerie way once more. I shake my head, my patience with this sadist completely frayed.

"Your funeral." I shrug. He only grins wider. I start to channel my powers, about to shoot a flurry of icicles out my palms when suddenly, I am gripped with a terrible, radiating agony, starting deep in my chest, it burns through me like fire, banishing my ice. I cry out before sinking to the ground, shutting my eyes as I clutch at my chest, the agony so intense, so overpowering, I begin to feel numbness. I dimly hear a chuckle emanating from Eon, I know he has done this, but how? I haven't eaten or drank anything… with a gust of internal flames, I remember the kiss. Of course…

"What-what is this?" I ask, my voice weak, ending on another cry of pain as the fire scalds me. I feel a tear roll down my face, I bite my lip on a scream. I vaguely feel him kneel down next to me, I turn my head slightly, looking at him through a blur of agony. He smiles at me.

"this, little girl, is your doom." He says softly. I give a small plaintive cry as yet more heat radiates through me, burning with the fire of a thousand suns.

"I'm going to die…" I murmur softly to myself, my voice creaky with the blinding agony. I feel sleep begin to encroach on me, I know I don't have long before I pass out from the pain, and maybe never wake up. I am unable to prevent myself from closing my eyes, tears still falling from underneath my eyelids. The last words I hear before everything goes black, chill my soul.

"Oh no little girl. Some fates are worse than death."

 


	7. chapter 7

**Okay, so this is definitely the darkest chapter. Warnings for rape, torture, violence. Not for the faint hearted. Put it this way, I feel the word 'sorry' should come out of my mouth. Oh and two OC's-they will be important, so pay attention ;)**

**The Kingdom of Elmira.**

" _Adrian!"_

The prince regent of Elmira glances up from his position by his father's bedside, a frown marring his fair brow, his lazy amber eyes glimmering in the dim light of the room. He instantly recognises the high pitched whiny voice, he rolls his golden eyes.  _What does she want now?_  He takes one more look at his peaceful father, straightening his red doublet before leaving the stuffy room, with its heavy air filled with the stench of wilting roses and of hopelessness. The instant he leaves the room and shuts the door behind him, he finds himself looking down at a petite golden haired woman, her beautiful face creased in anger, her small pink lips pouting petulantly. A delicate blush of anger stains her cheeks, her identical golden eyes narrowed in fury. He crosses his arms over his chest.

"What is it  _now_?" he sighs, staring down at the small extravagantly dressed girl, noting how her chosen attire could make two napkins and one very, very small table cloth. She stamps her foot in a childish display of sulkiness.

"We've got news from the Southern Isles-" she begins to whine, when he cuts her off angrily.

"Octavia, what have I told you about that? I'm the prince regent, I handle the affairs of state, not you." He snaps, frustrated. She shrugs gracefully.

"Adrian, it was from the Southern Isles! How could I not open it?!" she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, a gesture which, he notes, hides more flesh then her usual ensembles do. The warm climate of Elmira allows his sister to wear clothing that really is scandalous. She's a princess for crying out loud!

"fine. Well go on, don't keep me in suspense. What is this remarkable news?" he asks flatly, flipping his blonde hair out of his eyes. Her kissable brow furrows.

"It's the Queen of Arendelle and the Isen…you know, the one who not only refused your proposal, but gave you the most terrible burns on your hand?" she says in her unpleasantly high pitched voice. His waning attention is instantly captured by the reference to the only woman who has ever rejected him. As they usually do, his thoughts of her are very confusing, causing conflict in his neat, logical mind. Adrian's full red lips curve in a smile as he remembers the beautiful and oh-so-powerful Snow Queen.

"White hair?" he asks flippantly, like he has trouble remembering, but it's a façade. He knew he would remember the snowy mane until his dying days, the night he had seen her, it had been held in a pile on top of her head in a curious arrangement by a snowflake comb, some white tendrils falling down her face. His sister nods before flipping her own golden hair off her shoulders.

"yes, that's the one. Such an ugly colour, don't you think?" she says expectantly, her amber eyes showing anticipation he will agree. He nods absentmindedly, his thoughts far away from his petulant sister.

"Come on Octave. What's the news?" he says impatiently, his sisters yellow cats eyes glitter with intrigue.

"One of our messengers cantered through the Echo Pass to give this to us before anyone else heard. Yesterday, The Snow Queen was seen in the Southern Isles for the coronation of Prince Dominic-" she begins, Adrian cut's her off.

"That's it? That's not unusual." He says, slightly disappointed. Since his last run in with the delectable Queen, he has been searching of ways not only to get back at her, but to find a way to make her his. He knows that he needs to be allied with her kingdom; he needs access to the Isen's resources. " _besides,"_ he tells himself, " _I wouldn't mind waking up to that every day."_ He is brought back to the present by his sister shaking her head, her golden tiara somehow staying on her blonde curls.

"no, but who she was with is. Prince Hans, who was last seen swinging a sword at the back of her head.  **MY**  prince Hans." She whines sulkily. Adrian's gilded eyes widen in surprise before he curses.

"What the  _ **hell**_ is she doing?"

**Hans**

As I stride down the hallway, I tear off a strap from the bottom of the sleeve of my midnight blue shirt, wrapping it around my injured arm, trying to staunch the bleeding with a grim smile. My brothers had fought hard, but I managed to escape with my life-just. I groan at the stinging sensation where a blade had nicked me, rotating my arm before examining my blood covered sword as I quickly move down the warren of gothic corridors, my ears listening for the sound of either them, or guards. I hadn't killed anyone; at least, I don't think I did. I was too preoccupied in just remaining  _breathing_ to worry about inflicting injury on my attackers. Thankfully, I had bought myself just enough time to quickly get the hell out of the throne room, my destination is the one place they would never go; it's doubtful they even know it exists. I imagine the small, cramped space, the air heavy with stale air and forgotten pain. Well, not exactly forgotten. I lightly run my gloved fingers along the scars slashed across my left wrist, when in a dark moment I decided to save my family the trouble of yet more assassination attempts. I had almost lost conscious when I realised what I had done, I had quickly grabbed a white glove which had been carelessly tossed in the room to staunch the blood flow, I had worn white gloves ever since to hide the scars. After that one black moment, I changed. I allowed my natural ambition to take control, to shove my weaknesses into the back of my mind.

"No more." I say softly, before forcing my grip on my left wrist to ease. Something isn't right, even though I managed to escape the talons of my brothers, I'm oddly uneasy. I feel something register in the back of my mind, but I can't quite grab at it. However, I don't have time to think about it, I hear footsteps in front of me. I quickly duck into a doorway, my sword ready. Adrenaline begins to run its weary course through me, I risk a glance around the corner, intending to gauge my would be attacker and then quickly conceal myself again. However, the sight I see stops my cold, leaves me standing there like a simpleton.

It's my brother Eon, easily carrying a white figure in his arms who is undeniably Elsa; her white hair falling over his right arm, the way her white silk is pulled taut over her not inconsiderable hips as she lies in his arms is unmistakable. My brother, his face for once unguarded, is looking at her in a way which chills my blood, with a dark possessiveness, with a lust that's irrefutable. His small pink tongue darts out to lick his lips in a wretchedly predatory gesture as he gazes upon her hungrily, like he wants to devour her. The fingers of his left hand, which support her legs, are gripping her thighs harder than necessary, surely leaving bruises, whilst his right is holding her shoulder, keeping her prisoner against him. I watch with horrified fascination as I see his hand reluctantly leave her shoulder, allowing her head to fall back against his arm as he unlocks the door and move inside it, taking the unconscious Elsa with him. With a click of the door, I am suddenly free of the spell and duck back into the small alcove, my eyes wide, a million questions swirling around inside my confused mind.

How the hell did they get her unconscious?

How could they hope to keep  _her_ a prisoner?

And, most importantly, what's going to happen to her?

Bracing myself, I decide to take a chance. I quickly leave the alcove and stand in front of the door; I hesitate before opening the door, not much, just a crack. I stare inside the room as I watch, horrified, as my brother lays her down on the small bed inside the room, resting her head against the pillow with deceiving gentleness. I gaze upon the tableaux, watching dark lust flick through his usually blank face as his hands, although he has set Elsa down, do not leave her body. They move to her ethereal white bodice, and, with a noise that chills my blood, rip the fabric. I watch on, mortified as he runs his hands down her barely concealed chest, still covered by an ice blue bra. His face looks down on her, his eyes darkening with cruelty and lust. He frowns before smiling delightedly, he quickly leans over her, he places one hand in her tangled white hair, pulling her head to the side roughly, stretching her pale throat before he bites where her neck meets her shoulder in a gesture which couldn't possibly have a clearer meaning.

_Mine._

Even in her unconscious state, Elsa whimpers in her sleep, a sound which makes his head snap up, a line of spit and blood stringing between his mouth and Elsa's body. Even though she is at last 10 meters away from me, I can see a small trickle of blood run down her neck. He smiles delightedly before moving his mouth down to her partially exposed breasts, where he repeats the process, much to his obvious delight, Elsa cries out, her back arching as she shifts in her slumber. He stands before wiping his blood stained lips, and giving Elsa a look of lust so full of darkness and cruelty it makes my eyes widen. I watch as he places his hands on the partially torn fabric, clearly about to tear the dress down to its hem, when he is interrupted by a shout.

"Eon!"

The snarky voice of Dietrich echo's through the corridor, he sighs before removing his hands. I reluctantly slip away from the door, knowing my brother to be leaving any minute. I can't seem to rid my mind of the image of his bruising grip on her pale body, his hands on her, making her bleed. And this is just the beginning. I square my shoulders, steeling in my resolve.

She saved me yesterday, and now I'm going to return the favour.

**Elsa**

I feel the pain first.

A dull ache in the centre of my chest, a hollow feeling of emptiness threatens to consume me. I force my eyes open, and then want to close them again when I see my surrounding's. I sit up gingerly, wincing as I feel an odd pain both on my neck and on my breast, I glance down with alarm, not only to see my bodice ripped open, but a bite mark, which is surrounded by dried blood. I feel my stinging neck and notice the same thing, my fingers come away wet with not quite dried blood. My eyes widen with panic before I force myself to calm down, I need to figure out where I am first. I glance around the room, different from the bedroom from before, with a brief flash of panic which I quickly quell when I realise I have no idea how the hell I got here. The room is smallish, All the furniture has been taken out (if indeed, there was any here in the first place) it is bare, other than the bed I am currently laying on and a small table with a chair. A full length mirror is in the corner. There is a glass on the centre of the table, filled with an opaque liquid, like cloudy water. Curious, I delicately slide off the bed, my feet hitting the floor as I pad over to the table. I pick up the glass, looking at what's inside it with interest. I notice there is a note beside it, I quickly lift it and scan the letter.

" _Good morning Elsa. You are now the guest of the brothers of the Southern Isles-me in particular. I know how your innocent blue eyes must widen with fear, but don't worry; I won't hurt you. Yet._  
You see little girl, we stumbled upon a marvellous substance called Sun Drug. It seems to have the unique ability to completely halt your powers by melting all that ice inside you, hence the exquisite pain you seemed to be feeling when it started working on you. That glass on the table is filled with it, I expect to see it drunk, displays of disobedience will be punished accordingly. But don't worry, we won't just hurt you. Our little brother too. I'll visit you today Little Girl, and if you don't drink it…I'll help you.  
-Eon."

In a kneejerk reaction, I quickly ball the note up in my hand and toss it across the room. I stare at the jug of cloudy water, looking at it closely, I now see a fine cover of powder across the bottom. Just to make sure, I open my palm, and concentrate, trying to call my power, which should be running through me easily is instead completely absent. The thin veneer of calm I had placed upon myself abruptly bursts, and I am filled with dark, roiling fear and panic.

No, no, no, no…

I try and call them again, focusing  _hard._ I can do this…

20 minutes later, I finally conclude that I can't.

Whatever this drug is, it's stopping my powers unlike anything I had ever seen before...defeated, I slide down into the chair facing the table, and, the glass. I stare at it blankly.

I could just not take it…but then both I and Hans would feel the consequences. I've read about this medicine before; it's made in Elmira, the land of the sleeping dead. Despite my panic, I am unable to prevent a small snort as I remember the Crown Prince. Sure, he has the whole prince charming thing going for him, but he has the smarmy confidence to match. I shake myself back into focus, frantically trying to dredge up the memory of a botany book I had been reading years ago. If my memory serves, I think Sun drug lasts for 4 hours, and I have been asleep for at least two...the Sadist would come for me before the drug has worn off… so I have about an hour, if that.

I shiver as I re-read the letter, his words chilling me to the bone.

" _I won't hurt you. yet."_

What sort of person am I dealing with?

Something tells me that his 'help' would not exactly be enjoyable…but then again, wouldn't my drinking of this just seal my fate? In a drugged state, my powers gone and my will practically dashed to pieces, what's to stop any of them from taking whatever they want from me? But then again…what's stopping them now?

I glance up, capturing my own gaze in the mirror, my reflection stares back at me, the despondency and fear in my expression absolute.

And that's when I notice a sight which chills me to the bone.

My sapphire eyes aren't sapphire anymore.

They're almost white.

I stand, the chair clattering to the ground as I quickly back away, hitting the front of the small bed. I crawl onto it, I rest my head on my arms, shutting my eyes, trying to block out the world as I slump against the bed head, the emptiness which I presume to be caused by the drug grows with my sense of defeat. I remember something Hans once said to me, before he swung a sword at the back of my head.

"I can't run from this…" I say softly. Oddly, the words which should make me accept my situation and make me surrender, fill me with a sense of fire, a sense of fight. I lift my head from my arms, my eyes narrowed at the glass.

No.

I will not give in.

They may have taken my powers, but I am still a _ **Queen.**_

And no matter how much they torture me or degrade me, will that ever change.

I will not drink it.

**Hans**

I quickly slip through the door to the dark stuffy room, closing the door and then leaning on It, trying to gather my reeling mind. My instincts tell me to leave, to get the hell out and vanish, like I usually do. However, some small voice which I take to be my oft quiet conscious is telling me that I have to save her, that this could be my chance to redeem myself.

"Why would I want to do that? I have no shame for what I did." I say firmly into the empty room. It's true; I have no regrets for what happened that day, when the sun gleamed off my sword as bright as it did of her Ice, when blood should have mingled with snow. I lightly hit the back of my head against the door in frustration before stripping off my blood splattered white gloves. I throw them into the abyss of darkness which covers the corners of the room, the blackness of the bedroom so absolute that I can barely make out if there is indeed any furniture.

Just the way I like it.

"no." I say softly into the slightly warm room, as I fancy I can see shadows flick across the walls like sprites. I will save her. Besides, it's not like I can escape anyway, my brothers would have placed sentries on every corner of the castle. I'll need Elsa to escape, once we find out what the hell is going on with her powers. Why can't she use them?

Mind made up, I quickly leave the haunted room, so full of dust it chokes the lungs. I give a small smile as I pass through the dark corridors.

The villain is about to rescue the heroine.

How ironic.

**Elsa.**

_Flames. I'm surrounded by them. Flickering, raging, almost as If they are alive, they dance around me. The heat is immense, swirling, and strong as the smoke from the ring of fire fills my eyes with acrid smog. I cough, smoke getting into my lungs. The circle of fire hems in on me, getting closer and closer. I collapse onto my knees, confusion and fear running through me. In my addled mental state, I dimly realise I need to channel ice to combat the fire before I am burnt, I try and force the frozen powers out through my hands, but I can't, it's as if it is blocked by something, perhaps the growing temperature inside me. I cry out from the pain of the scalding heat, clutching my hands to my chest as the flames grow closer, now little more than an arm's length away, the heat immense and searing, the inferno draws in around me. Before I am incinerated, I accept my fate._  
I am the ice queen.  
And I will burn.

I am wakened by the feeling of something against my face. In my drowsy state I realise it is a hand caressing my cheek. Unthinking and half asleep, without opening my eyes I press into the hand.

"Hans…" I softly murmur, still drowsy. Something nags at my mind, but in my sleepy state I can't place it.

"hardly." a chillingly familiar voice speaks. Suddenly I realise what was bothering me. My eyes fly open and I sit bolt upright, my heart sounding in my ears. I look up and see the familiar dark green eyes of the man I hate. His hand still caressing my cheek, I sit still in stunned silence, my mind reeling, trying to catch up. Thankfully, I manage to regain control of my reactions and slam down a mask of impassivity on my bewildered expression, narrowing my eyes with genuine fury. He stares down at me; his usually blank eyes filled with an odd fire that makes me shrink back, still sitting on the bed. I don't allow my eyes to show my fear; instead I just glare at him. He tilts his head, studying me before he roughly grabs my chin, tilting my face, examining me.

"Interesting. I wasn't expecting that to happen to your eyes…almost silver aren't they? Although if you hold them in the right light, they are still a little blue…" he muses aloud in his bored monotone before he releases my face, leaving me glaring at him. Suddenly, I remember my bodice being opened, and the two stinging wounds on my chest and neck. I quickly raise my arms to try and cover my chest, trying to piece together the hanging pieces of the white corset.

"Why did you do this?!" I snarl, gesturing to the painful bite marks on my body. He smiles his chilling pointed grin.

"To remind you of who you belong too." He says simply, a cruel glint in his eye. My eyes widen in a regrettable display of fear, which he notices and, alarmingly, it causes a sparkle of pleasure to appear in his gaze. I shrink back, unspeaking. He glances at the table, noticing the full glass before looking back at me.

"You didn't take your medicine." He says, his tone conveying no displeasure at all. I glower at him, crossing my arms over my chest, refusing to be cowed.

"Perceptive, aren't you?" I snap irritably, before sliding out of the bed, or at least, attempting to. I hardly brush past him when he quickly sweeps me up, and throws me back onto the linen. I glare at him fiercely, his eyes showing nothing.

"What did I say would happen if you didn't?" he asks in his low empty voice. I sit up before shrugging.

"Probably threatened me." I say flippantly, even though I am lying. I know very well what his letter had warned.  _If you don't drink, I'll help you…_

He smiles down at me in the empty gesture, his eyes displaying nothing but my reflection, like two dark green mirrors. If eyes are windows to the soul, then he surely has none. I am distracted in my musings by him quickly grabbing my wrists and pulling me up roughly. His grip on my wrists isn't just unbreakable, but painful, I struggle fruitlessly as he drags me to the centre of the room, I try and pull away from him, but it's no use. He quickly shifts behind me, pinning my wrists to my back and binding them with what I realise is rope. He quickly grabs my shoulders and forces me down to the ground on my knees. I struggle vainly as he keeps one hand on my shoulder, keeping me on the ground. He stares down at me, a fire in his eyes that wasn't there before. For a moment, I swear I see his tongue dart out to lick his small pink lips. I flinch.

"Last chance. Are you going to drink?" he asks flatly. I narrow my eyes at him, the sheer demeaning of the situation infuriating me, the urge to kill this sadistic bastard enormous. I shake my head stubbornly. He grins.

"I was rather hoping you'd say that." He says sweetly before turning around, one hand still on my shoulder holding me down, the other tipping something into the glass. I struggle to check what he is up to, but his grip is like iron.

"What the hell are you doing?" I snap, forcing the fear out of my voice. In response, he tightens his grip on my shoulder, his grasp so strong it will surely bruise. I wince, glad he is slightly turned around so can't see. After a moment, he turns, staring at me blankly, but for a small glimmer of fire in his eyes.

"An experiment. Seeing as how much pain you were in before from that tiny dose, I do think I would enjoy seeing how much delightful agony you would be in with…a larger amount." He says cruelly, his words make my eyes widen in fear, something he notes and smiles at.

"go to hell." I snarl, he smiles his predatory smile. He puts two fingers under my chin, staring down into my pale eyes.

"oh Elsa, that's not an insult. Not when you're already there." He says sweetly. I try and wrench my chin out of his grasp, but he holds it firm before lifting the cool glass to my lips, the water filling my mouth.

I have no choice but to swallow.

I shut my eyes, unable to endure the mocking leer in his dark green eyes, just wanting it to be over, for it to finish. I feel something wet on my face, I think its water splashing, but then I realise they are tears. Before I know it, the glass is being set down on the table. I slowly open my eyes, to find my tormentor standing in front of me, looking at me with the same funny look in his eyes. I no longer glare at him, but just stare into his empty dark green eyes, now almost black.

"my, your so pretty when you cry." He muses aloud, I feel a surge of terror at his words. I brace myself, waiting for the pain to start, but what happens next is entirely different. I am quickly swept up by my captor, and virtually thrown on the bed; I quickly grab my bearings and struggle to sit up when I feel an odd sensation, a strange heat blooming in my chest, oddly unpainful. In my surprise at the new feeling, I hardly notice Eon advancing on me with his slow, predatory grace. I quickly try and get up, but can only raise myself up on my elbows when he quickly takes my shoulders and forces me back down onto the bed, I can only glare at him in this surprisingly demeaning position.

"What do you think you're doing?" I snarl, my eyes narrowing in fury. His glassy dark green eyes stare back at me, blank as ever. I glare back at him, his gaze intense as the searing heat pours down my veins, disposing of any coldness or ice. What is happening?!

"I figure you have about...5 minutes until that delicious pain hits that enticing body of yours. I had better…adjust you to agony, don't you think?" he says in his typical flat voice, a glimmer of dark lust in his eyes. I feel a spark of fear at his words, and my eyes widen, but I feel a surge of hot anger. It blazes around us, the heat soaring. My mind reels in confusion, but I can't seem to stop or think about it, the searing heat saps my wits.

"Don't you dare." I hiss, his hands which were by my head slip to my pale bare shoulders, he squeezes them tightly, forcing me further down into the bed. Pain radiates through me but the fire distracts me. He runs his fingers down the wound on my neck, I am unable to prevent a small flinch of pain, which he notes, his eyes meeting mine. I feel the heat in my lower spine, travelling through me like my icy powers, I see my reflection in his eyes surrounded by flames.

"does it hurt?" he asks casually, his bottle green eyes displaying no emotion. I glare at him, heat burning through his touch, scalding me, my blood sounding in my ears, the fire and pain all too much.

"no." I lie. He tilts his head to the side in response, gazing at me thoughtfully. Suddenly, he circles his hand around the side of my neck, and squeezes hard, bringing back the stinging sensation, making it worse. I am unable to prevent a small gasp from escaping me, but he merely squeezes harder, making me bite my lip against further noise. He chuckles, a dark and menacing sound.

"It's a shame your lying. Because I am going to hurt you so much more Elsa. I won't kill you, but there are some fates worse than death, and I am going to make sure that you live every, single, one of them." He says, staring directly into my pale eyes when suddenly, he presses his lips to mine in a hard, forced kiss, pouring all his venom and hatred into me with a strength so powerful I shriek and try to get away, to somehow escape, but his other hand is twisted painfully in my hair, keeping me pinned to the bed as his hand which was on my neck drops to the hem of my dress, tugging up the white fabric. I struggle against him fruitlessly, his tongue tries to press its way inside my mouth, but I close my lips, resisting. He bites my lip hard enough to draw blood, and tugs down, forcing me to open my lips. I groan with revulsion as his hand runs up my legs, not in a gentle caress, but with his surprisingly sharp nails digging into my pale flesh, scratching. I continue to struggle, trying to worm my way out of his grasp, where I should feel fear, all I can feel is the raw flames, my body feels like it's burning, almost painful. His hands leave scorching imprints on my flesh, my heart pounding as the flames that roar inside me grow stronger. Suddenly, he breaks from the forced kiss, and I see my reflection in his dark pupil, I look as fiery as I feel, my white eyes almost glowing, my pale skin almost…radiant. Suddenly, I see myself as Eon sees me. Tainted by Lust and his hatred, consumed by it, I can't help but gasp from the searing flames this vision invoke in me. His hand which is on my legs ghosts higher and higher, reaching the apex of my thighs where his hand pauses, about to slip into my undergarments. His mouth curves in a smile.

"Come on sweetheart, aren't you going to play along? Go on, widen those lovely silver eyes and tell me how much you want me to stop. Beg for mercy Elsa. Do it." He says, his bottle green eyes boring into me. My lack of response makes him press his thumbs into my neck, making me gasp and arch my back from pain and shock, but I still do not answer, looking away, biting my lip against a cry, the fire of anger licks higher, searing heat blooms in my body like a glowing ball of light.

"If I can't make you speak…I'll happily settle for your screams." He murmurs softly, making my eyes widen as the flames rage on painfully. He notices my look of terror and smiles, a distinctly predatory movement before his hands slip inside my underwear, his hand leaves my hair, trailing down my cheek in a sickeningly sweet gesture at odds with his other hand inside my draws. I manage to wrench my face out of his grasp, a fundamentally futile gesture as he quickly presses a finger inside me, but it gives me a small feeling of triumph nonetheless, the flames which torture me as he does grow.

"Always fighting aren't you? That can be fixed." He murmurs before leaning down to kiss my cheek sickeningly softly, my back arched as the flames burn me more from the inside out, a searing pain, his hand toying with me roughly.

"I will never stop fighting you." I snarl, the heat inside me unbearable. I frown with confusion, somewhere in my mind, it registers that it's almost as if the room temperature is actually  _rising_. He laughs, before removing his hand from my underwear. Although this should fill me with relief, it does the opposite, it fills me with  _ **terror.**_  He slides a hand into my hair, grabs the roots and tugs hard, pulling me up so I am sitting on the small bed. His hand drops down to my bound wrists, I feel him undo the rough rope before he yanks my hair again, downwards this time, pressing my back against the bed, my arms above my head, tied to the iron bar which I notice for the first time. My wrists still together, I yank at the rope with all my strength, desperately trying to get free, but it doesn't budge. I lower my head, which was staring at the iron bar above me, directing my gaze back towards the monster in front of me. I narrow my eyes at him, the fire inside me growing, searing.

"Let. Me. Go." I growl, glaring with unrestrained hatred at Eon. He tilts his head, his gaze travelling up my body, starting at my legs where the silk is bunched around my thighs, up my exposed torso and then studying my furious face, with infuriating slowness. I continue to struggle fruitlessly against my bindings, the flames inside me growing with my frustration and terror.

"Why would I do that? I have you just where I want you." He says, like my command surprises him. He deftly joins me on the bed, wedging a knee in between my firmly closed legs in a display of power which makes bile rise to my throat, the pain from the fire inside me too much to bear.

"You see sweetheart, I have been wanting to do this for a very, very long time." he murmurs as I watch his hand slip into his jacket pocket and retrieve a small object which is covered by his slim hand, the heat both inside and outside of me increases with my fear.

"You had never even met me!" I say, my voice incredulous, my white hair whipping around my neck in my anger as I shake my head, trying to curl my legs up, but he quickly grabs my calves, digging his nails into my skin as he holds me in place, the lancing sensation of pain joins my inner fire.

"I didn't need to. You see, I heard all about you, the girl who dared call herself a queen. Even then, I knew what you were. A whore. A whore who needed to be shown exactly what she is. I knew then, that I wanted you," he says, clearly enjoying telling his tale to a captive audience as he runs a hand through my snowy hair, picking up a tendril and playing with it. I resist the urge to shake my head, to snatch my hair back. "And I don't just want to fuck you, you understand. That's what my brothers want, but alas, they rather lack…imagination." He smiles chillingly, moving his hand from my hair down my face and then down my breasts, making me flinch.

"Then what  _ **do**_ you want?" I snap, not allowing my fear to show, afraid of his answer. A slow, predatory smile spreads across his face, the terror inside me only grows, unhelped when his hand rests on my pale leg.

"I want the legendary Ice Queen reduced to nothing more than an object for my pleasure, a pretty little toy for me to hurt, to play with. I want you to hate yourself for every word of pleading that passes those lovely lips of yours, and yet, beg anyway. I want to hear you scream, those lovely silver eyes to fill with tears, which roll down that pretty, pretty face." He murmurs, his usually blank eyes flare up with a dark lust which makes me tug harder against the ropes, desperate now as his words manage to chill the roaring blaze inside me, but the fire wins out, the flames licking at my skin. He tosses the object held in his large right hand to his left, my eyes widen when I see what it is.

A knife.

"What are you going to do with that?" I stammer, a strong sensation that I don't want to know encompasses me as I once more try to curl my legs and get away, but his nails on his right hand merely grip me harder, I watch, horrified as with a stinging sensation blood wells up and trickles down my pale flesh. He smiles before pressing the flat edge of the blade against my upper thigh, moving it upwards as I watch the ascent of the knife. When it reaches the bunched silk of my dress, he doesn't stop, holding the silk tight with one hand as the knife begins to cut the fabric with a chilling ripping sound. Too afraid to move lest I cut myself against the sharp blade, I lie in stillness, nearly panting for terror, my silver eyes wide with fear and  _fury_. The fabric falls down, exposing my pale torso, the blade travels further, cutting the fabric from me. I wince in pain as the knife slips, nicking my fair skin, causing a small line of blood to well up, contrasting with the paleness of my flesh, matching the blood on my neck and leg.

When he gets to my bra, he slides the blade underneath the strap and cuts it, the metal cold and hard against my skin, I force myself not to flinch, lest it nick me again. He does the same process to the other strap before cutting the sides underneath my arm, allowing the inconsequential piece of covering to fall off me, in ribbons. I hate my helplessness, the flames inside me unaided by my skyrocketing panic, my mind numb from shock and pain. His gaze drops from my widened eyes to my exposed chest, examining my uncovered breasts, his stare almost clinical but for the glint of lust in his dark eyes.

"bastard." I hiss, my voice filed with venom and hatred. He presses the knife blade to my chin, forcing my gaze, and my head, upwards, making me look above him at the ceiling, angry now.

"Your defiance is admirable Elsa, really, but what's the point? Your powers are gone, you've even lost most your clothes…well, almost all your clothes." He says, glancing down to my ice blue underwear before sliding the blade from underneath my chin and up my arms, slitting the white chiffon sleeves, allowing the dress to fall to the bed, cut to shreds. "You have no hope of escape, not whilst I keep you drugged. And soon, even your free will, will be mine." He says, his voice indifferent. Despite my situation, I give a short bark of laughter, the flames encouraging my confidence, aiding my bravado, the pain messing with my usually reasonable head.

"Never." I spit. He runs the tip of the dagger across my collarbone, narrowly nicking the flesh. I wince in pain as the cut wells with blood. At this rate, I'll be lucky to last past nightfall from blood loss alone.

"My methods can be particularly persuasive. You see Elsa, pain is a marvellous thing. It can turn the most loyal man into a traitor, the kindest woman into the vilest creature, the proudest queen into little more than a servant to my desires." He says in his detached voice, his dark green eyes lit with an odd fire which adds to the burning flames inside me. I notice he has paused the knife just underneath my breast, on the left side of my torso, where, I vaguely remember, my heart is. Terrified beyond belief, my breath comes out in shallow pants, which only increase as he starts to press the tip of the dagger into me, the deep lancing sensation adding to the burning heat inside me. I bite my lip against a scream, so hard I taste blood.

I will not give him the satisfaction.

I watch as blood starts to well and roll down my torso, but rather then slowly stabbing me like I was anticipating, he merely moves the blade, cutting through my pale skin, it's with a dark cloud of panic that I realise what he is doing.

He is writing.

"Seeing as how you seem to have trouble remembering; now you will know what you are every time you look in the mirror." He murmurs as the knife continues in its agonizing descent, blood running down my front freely. The pain is such that I feel my body long to pass out, I start to get drowsy from the blood loss; I give a low groan as I fight to keep my eyes open.

"what are you Elsa?" he hisses, halting the blade. I know what he wants to hear. Even in my pain confused state, I refuse to speak.

"Come on Elsa. Call yourself a whore, and the pain will stop." He says enticingly, leaning down and kissing my cheek absurdly softly. I shake my head groggily, forcing myself to stay awake as I get sleepier. He sighs sadly. He removes the blade from my skin, there is no relief, I merely feel myself getting warmer and warmer, the world begins to get a bit fuzzy at the edges. The wound on my chest feels like it was  _burned_ onto me, like a brand on my flesh. I use the last bit of my strength to pull myself higher against the ropes, trying to see what he scrawled over my heart. What he wrote makes me still, the flames inside of me suddenly being drawn to my centre, concentrated by a bolt of fury that I have never before felt as I stare down at the word, covered in my dark red blood.

" _Mine"_

Suddenly, the fire inside me explodes.

Time seems to slow as I look at the scrawled word, the blood heightening in colour, the dark red becoming bright and garish, my skin so white it hurts to look at it, the colours seeming to melt into each other like a watercolour painting, It races through my veins like molten lava, surfacing at my hands, concentrating on the ropes which I now feel with a sensitivity never before felt, I feel every individual scratchy fibre of the hemp, my vision distorted by the bright colours that seem to  **bleed.**   _Mine. Mine. Mine._ I slowly lift my gaze from the deep bleeding cuts over my heart and stare at Eon before tugging at the rope which binds me.

It snaps easily.

I gaze into his widened dark green eyes, the heat radiating from me in waves as I feel a warm breeze stir my white hair across my shoulders. My muscles, my whole body screaming in heated pain, the fury inside me is all encompassing. I raise my hand, prizing my fingers open where they had been balled in a tight fist.

What am I?

I'm a queen.

The hot wind starts to howl, I dimly hear the table and the chairs start to scrape against the ground as they begin to be blown about by the warm tornado. Suddenly, almost in slow motion, I flick my fingers. The pain, the hatred bursts out of me like shards of heated glass, leaving through every pore of my pale skin, like a thousand tiny needles all at once, a pounding in my skull and in my very soul unlike anything I have ever felt before, what leaves me isn't ice, but something else entirely. So absorbed am I on my fury, on my hatred, on my sheer outrage that I hardly notice what force leaves me and blasts the monster in front of me away with a flash of light, only when I feel an intense heat do I glance up, my pain filled mind confused and slow. I can only stare at the sight in front of me, I gaze at the room with frank astonishment before I collapse on the floor, completely spent and weak, both from blood loss and from wielding this strange, new form of power.

Fire.

**SURPRISE MOTHERF****ERS! DIDN'T SEE THAT ONE COMING DID YOU?! AHAHAHAH**


	8. chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope you all liked the little plot twist there…Let the real story begin! 
> 
> Oh, by the way, this fic will be progressing a little slower than usual due to my writing another Helsa fanfiction as well; It’s called Masks and White Rabbits, go check it out!
> 
> -Ava.

I struggle to get to my feet, trying to regain control over my reeling senses, the sheer power in my body makes my hands tremble and my body shiver as I force myself up, realising that I need to get out of the burning room, the bare walls are licked with flame, the instinct for survival overtaking my panic and confusion.   Suddenly, almost comically, the door to the room bursts open, and in surges Hans, whose usually guarded mocking green eyes widen in sheer, unbridled confusion as he takes in the burning room, and me, near naked, standing in the centre of it.  His gaze notices my wide silver eyes, and his mouth opens fractionally in shock.  We stand in silence before I break it, the smoke from the flames snapping me back to my senses.

“Where the **_hell_** have you been?” I snap irritably, at a loss for any other words to say before I quickly stride towards him before my steps falter and I stumble, a sharp bolt of physical weakness strikes me.  Hans swiftly catches me and picks me up, like some sort of bride groom.  Despite my exhaustion, I glare at him as he quickly turns on his heel, leaving the burning room. 

“who do you think you are, Prince Charming?” I snarl, he laughs at the sheer absurdity of my disagreeability.

“You bet I am; I’m even rescuing the damsel in distress.” he chuckles, his eyes flicking down to meet mine before he shuts the door behind him; I see the shape of Eon hurled against a wall in the corner.  I smile against his shoulder before I turn my almost white gaze to Hans, narrowing my eyes, crossing my arms over my bare chest.  I open my mouth, but he quells me with a look of disbelieving annoyance.

“oh no Elsa, you do _not_ get to start questioning me.  **_You’re_** the one with explaining to do.   Care to fill me in?” he says, his eyes leaving mine and focusing on the corridors in front of us as we twist and turn through the hallways, I don’t question our destination.

“Your brothers drugged me with something that can stop my powers, long story short, Eon gave me a little too much, mix that with torture and…” I hesitate, biting my lip. He glances down at me, noticing my reluctance, a frown marring his fair brow.

“and?” he prompts.  I sigh.

“And I somehow nearly incinerated the room.” I say softly.  He nearly drops me before quickly catching me again, making me bite back a shriek and glare at him.  His eyes widen.

“You can wield fire?” he asks, his voice thick with wonder.  I smooth my white hair back from my forehead.

“I guess so.  I mean, I’m not really sure.  It could have just been the pain which forced it through me.” I shrug, unsure.  His eyes narrow at my mention of pain, his gaze drops to the numerous cuts running over my body, his gaze darkening at the word underneath my breast; over my heart.  The blood has oddly vanished and the wound closed, now just a scar, like it’s been there forever.   It must have been the flames, which can close wounds.  His eyes, when they meet mine, are murderous.

“please tell me you killed him.” He says flatly.   I shrug, remembering the slumped body thrown  against a wall.  A smile curves my lips.

“Good as.” His smile matches my own as he slides one hand which was underneath my legs out to turn a doorknob.  Both our heads snap up when we hear the bells which herald an escaped prisoner start to sound across the citadel, we quickly enter the room which Hans has chosen.  He swiftly shuts the door with his foot before gently setting me down, his hand gripping my arm, keeping me upright.  His eyes meet mine in the darkness of the stuffy room, properly examining me in a manner he hadn’t been able to in our hurried flee from the burning room. 

“Did they say what they used on you?” he asks eventually, his green eyes searching my white ones.  I nod.

“Sun Drug.” I say shortly.  It clearly strikes a chord with him; he tilts his head in confusion.

“I didn’t think Sun Drug did that to the eyes.” he murmurs, examining the unnatural silver.  I shrug.

“It doesn’t, or at least, it shouldn’t.  I think it’s reacted to my magic.” I say slowly.  He nods before he grabs my shoulders; I open my mouth to ask him what the hell he thinks he is doing, when he presses his lips to mine.  I don’t react out of surprise before I melt under his touch, pouring in emotion until we separate, breathless, his green eyes glittering.  I know my silver ones will be doing the same thing.  

“What was that for?” I ask, breathing heavily.  A smile curves his lips.

“Think of it as me kissing it better.” He laughs ruefully, running a hand through the front of his hair.  I am suddenly conscious of my near naked state, I experimentally raise my hand and run it down the length of my pale body, my hand, which had felt warm at best, glows hot, although somehow it doesn’t affect me.  I feel the new magic run through me like sand slipping out of an open palm, channelling at covering myself.  I allow my hands to drop, the skin of my palms hitting the warm material, woven of fire and heat.   The new dress is in the style of my old blue one (with a shortened train-having one of my previous length would only get in the way) but this time, it is ochre rather than a pale blue; my sleeves now of sheer gold.  Hans’s eyes widen with surprise, as do my own.  So, it would seem my new magic has the same properties as my old ones.  Suddenly, I feel a bolt of pain and weakness, I cry out before I fall, hands shoot out and grab my elbows, propping me up against him.

“Elsa, what is it?” he asks, his eyes reflecting concern, free of impassivity.  I give him a weak smile.

“I’m fine.  Honestly.” I try to say reassuringly, he looks at me sceptically.

“It’s the drug, isn’t it.” He says flatly, not quite a question.  I shake my head irritably, pushing him away and forcing myself to stand upright.

“Don’t be ridiculous.  Now, aren’t we meant to be escaping?” I snap, well and truly annoyed at both my own weakness and his alibility to read my expression.  So much so in fact, that I quickly storm out of the room, swinging open the door vengefully as I burst into the corridor. 

“Elsa, what the hell are you doing-“ he hisses, following me out into the red carpeted corridor.  The sheer gold train flows behind me in the air as I quickly pace down the corridors, vaguely remembering where the front door is located, my new powers coming to my fingertips in my annoyance as I remember all too well what the Southern Isles has done to me, the wound on my chest seems to grow hotter, like a brand.  Hans, seeming to pick up on my waves of hostility and determination, drops behind me lightly, giving me some distance and keeping his mouth blessedly shut.   The corridor splits into two, I hear the sound of swords being unsheathed; I smile slightly, halting in my advance.   I raise my hands to either side of the corridor, which feeds onto two smaller hallways. 

“Come out; come out, wherever you are…” I say softly.  I can almost feel them mustering their courage, to face the Ice Queen.

Well, the woman who **_was_** the Ice Queen.

Hans’s two brothers, whom I recognise as Dietrich and Nikolai walk into the centre of the hallway, Nikolai smiles, but Dietrich doesn’t bother.  They take in my new dress, and Hans’s presence beside me.

“Oh, so your prince rescued you.  How typical.” Dietrich snarls.  I smile at him in a distinctly predatory gesture, which fails to register with them.

“Don’t come any closer.” I say mildly, my power, my sheer fury causing this new, heated magic to rush to my fingertips.  Nikolai laughs.

“Why not?   You have no ice anymore Elsa.” he sneers.  I smile at him again before I raise my hands.

“Last chance.  Get out of the way, and you will be spared.” I say calmly, my powers coming to the fore.  They scoff with laughter

“spared?  You couldn’t even kill us when you had your powers, you’re too weak Elsa, you’re a **_woman._** You won’t kill us.  All we need to do is push you in one direction and you’ll go back to your cage, because that’s what women **_do._** ”  Dietrich says contemptuously, eyeing his drawn blade.  I smile sadly, relishing what I now have to do a little _too_ much, Their words make my already heated blood quite literally **_boil._** I glance at Hans, shrugging.

“I warned them.”

I allow the white hot power to surge from my palms in the form of two coils of fire, which wrap around their waists like whips of flames, latching onto their bodies.  I enjoy the sound of their screams for a moment before I allow them to drop back to the ground, the ropes of fire flicking back into my palm.  There are burns all across their waists, scorch marks blacken their shirts and when Nikolai lifts his head, his eyes are full of a murderous pain.

“monster” he spits, his stormy blue eyes dark with agony and hatred as he struggles to his feet, his brother near dead beside him, whimpering with pain.  I smile at the familiar word which I’ve been running from my whole life, only to find comfort in it; joy even. 

“And what should you feel when you meet a monster?” I chuckle before opening my palms, allowing two lazy tongues of fire to curl off my hands.   My last word is hissed like steam escaping before my fire wraps around them once more.

“fear.”

I smile before I close my palms, making the flames grow tighter around them, I hear their screams before they fall to the floor, two piles of ash. 

We stand in silence, Hans in stunned amazement, and me, well, in a moral dilemma.

I know I just killed two human beings, for all their faults, they were still people, living, breathing men.  I know I should feel guilt, or sadness, or self-loathing, but all I feel is a deep satisfaction.

_Whore, Monster, Slut, Girl…_

Their words ring in my ears, not causing pain, but calm pleasure; I had eradiated the source.  

Looks like the snow queen is all grown up.

“now, which way to the gate?” I ask breezily, the screams still echoing in my ears as I turn to face the wide eyed prince, whose eyes haven’t left the mounds of ash that were his two brothers, his usually guarded expression shows both shock, and an odd look of delight.  To my surprise, when his green eyes flick to mine, the entrancing depths show no horror at all. 

“You know Your Majesty; I rather think I’m beginning to rub off on you.” He chuckles before pointing to the left corridor.  A smile curves my lips as I stride between the two piles of ash, as an afterthought, I flick my fingers behind me, summoning a warm breeze to scatter them across the hall.  I feel a sharp lancing sensation in my chest; I have to lean against the wall as I feel my fury slip away, and thus, my temporary control over these new powers.  I shut my eyes, struggling to keep the ache under control.  I feel a hand on my shoulder, and glance up into the alarmed face of Hans.

“Elsa, it’s the magic.  You need to stop using it, it’s making you **_weaker_**.” He says pointedly.  I shake my head, my white hair shaking around my waist as I push myself of the wall. 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I say flatly before once more continuing my confident stride, the pain having ebbed away, at least, for the moment.  I hear him sigh before following me; I see the double oak doors of the throne room, which I slam open in a display of impatient confidence.  I need to leave this palace of darkness, of evil.  I stride through the marble floors, the afternoon sky shining through the high windows into the chambers.  I hear the sound of protest, wether from a brother or just a guard, I can’t tell, and I don’t bother to look.  I stretch my hand out to the side, and allow a blast of hot air to throw them against the wall with a deeply satisfying crunch, the sound of screams from the two brothers echoing through my mind, not a sound of horror, but almost a sound of triumph.  I burst through the doors of the room, and into the castle courtyard, standing on the steps as I thankfully breathe in the fresh air, a cool breeze hitting my heated body.  The bells peal over the stone square, which is blessedly empty.  

That is, almost empty.

About 20 guards in the midnight blue livery of the Southern Isles stand in the centre in 4 rows of five, swords drawn, some faces showing fear, others show grim determination.  At the head of them stands the tall prince Dominic, his jade eyes showing utter fury.  I raise an eyebrow at him imperiously, remembering the last time I had the displeasure of meeting him; he had called me a whore, then imprisoned me, undoubtedly in league with Eon.

Surely he would know not to cage a monster?  

“there’s nowhere to run Elsa, your trapped.” He says flatly, his jade eyes showing nothing.  I raise my hand, my fury at being treated this way, at being talked to this way, by this royal family who has been a thorn in my side ever since I ascended my throne.  I smile.

“so are you.”

I flick my wrist upwards, a hot, warm summer breeze leaves my palms, coiling itself around the soldiers, around this so called prince, before tossing them high in the air, watching coolly as they fall to the stone ground.  Some blood leaks from a few bodies and onto the cobblestones, the sound of groans and whimpers fill the now heated air.

“Which way to the stables?” I ask the man next to me as I start to descend the stone steps, the infernally loud bell keeps ringing.  Hans takes my arm in a ridiculous display of gentility and leads me to the stables.   Hans disappears through an open door into what I presume is the tack room, leaving me on my own, left to my thoughts. 

Well, not entirely alone.

I feel a warm gust of air on my neck, a sweet smell of hay.  I tense before relaxing, chuckling at my own folly before I turn around, face to face with a pair of wise brown eyes.  I lightly pat the white nose of the lean horse, before I hear a laugh to my side.  I glance to find Hans, his hands laden down with reigns and saddles.

“aw, I didn’t know you have a soft spot for horses.  A soft spot for anything for that matter.” He chuckles.  I glare at him as he strides towards me, his gaze flicking to the tack in his hands.  A dry smile curves his mouth.

“Do you need a hand with this-“ he begins condescendingly, gesturing with a hand to the various leather implements.  I cut him off with a withering look before I take a saddle and reigns out of his hands and toss them on the ground before opening the stall door, grabbing onto my horses white mane and quickly vaulting onto her white back, sitting astride.  I smile at him sweetly.

“You were saying?” I ask innocently.  He gives a short chuckle before dropping his load and quickly repeating my action on the bay mare next to me.  I give her a gentle kick in her sides, she needs no further encouragement.  We quickly canter out into the street, careful to avoid the courtyard where the guards (and Hans’s older brother) will surely be waking up from their…close meeting with the ground.  The feeling of my horse’s powerful muscles stretching underneath me, the wind in my hair and on my face makes a small delighted bubble of laughter escape me as we race through the citadel, scattering people in our wake.  Its only when I glance behind me do I realise I have left a small trail of embers behind me.   The buildings start to thin out around us, until almost suddenly, we are in the country side.  We slow to a walk, giving our panting horses a rest. 

“Well.  Welcome to the Southern Isles.” Hans says flatly.   I sneak a look at him through the corner of my eyes, his mouth wears an ironic smile.   I give a short chuckle.

“Not very hospitable here are they?” I laugh, glancing at him, a strand of white hair falling over my face, I blow it away irritably.  He shrugs.

“To be fair, you did just incinerate two of my brothers.” He points out.  I shrug, remembering how their bodies crumbled to ash in my mind’s eye.

“I didn’t notice any objection from you.” I say flatly.  He laughs.

“oh, there aren’t any, I can assure you.   What is objectionable, Your Majesty, is your haughtiness towards me for my bad behaviour, when you go and do **_that_**.” He chuckles.  I give him a cold look of disdain.

“You’re forgetting Charming.  They more than warranted that, I have the scars to prove it.  You however, swung a sword at the back of my head for no apparent reason other than to gain my throne.” I snap, irritated. 

“I’d call that a pretty good reason.”  I give a ladylike snort.

“you would.”

I turn my head back towards the road ahead of us, now empty but for the mountains which are ahead of us, the grey featureless road complimented by an equally grey and featureless sky.  Somewhere in the distance, I hear the tell-tale sound of thunder rumbling.  

 

“tell me Your Highness.  How do you think those lovely flames of yours would fare in a downpour?” Hans asks breezily, glancing up at the darkening sky. 

 

“I’d rather not find out.” I mutter before lightly nudging my mare in her sides.  Suitably rested from her canter, she bolts forward, I cling onto her snowy mane for dear life, running from the storm. 

 

**Hans**

 

I watch her race ahead, her unbound white hair flowing behind her like white streamers, the tendrils snapping and fluid like creamy snakes.  She moves gracefully with the movements of her white mare as she canters through the landscape, I recall my surprise when she vaulted up onto her horse, her ability not only to ride astride, but bareback both astounded and amused me.   I urge my own steed forward, recognising the need to get away from the beckoning grey clouds, if my memory serves; there is an old farmhouse up ahead where I used to take refuge from my brothers as a child.  With any luck, they’ll be some hay left, not that we can be picky.  Elsa is a creature of fire, for the moment at least.  Sun drug lasts only about 4 hours, but by the sound of it, my brothers had overdosed her, not to mention her system had clearly reacted to it differently.  I shiver as I remember the whips of flame coil from her palm, wrapping around my brothers and turning them to ash…No, who knows how long this could last for.  Far more worrying however, are the pain and weakness bouts Elsa seems to be feeling, especially after using her fire.  The drug is doing something to her, something dark and sinister, and the more she uses these powers, the worse it will get.  I am distracted from my thoughts by the sight of the old farmhouse, its grey stone has holes in the walls in some places, but the roof is intact.  Not a moment too soon, as we hear a clash of thunder echo above us, closer this time.  I race forward, my horse stretching out its neck, racing hers as we quickly canter towards the farmhouse.  We just have time too quickly dismount our horses and lead them to a small roofed building where other livestock would have been kept, before quickly letting ourselves in the decaying front door, slamming it on the first droplets of rain.  In a moment of comic relief, we both lean against the battered door.

“That was a little too close.” She mutters, cradling her hand.  I glance down at her, arching an eyebrow.

“Come now, we don’t even know if it would hurt you.” I murmur, vaguely surprised.  For all our differences, I had never pinned Elsa as a coward.  Her unnerving silver eyes blink back at me, like two mirrors.  Wordlessly, she lifts her hand from the folds of her skirt, rather than turn me to ash, she is showing me the small red marks where rain has hit her, curls of steam rise from it.  My eyes widen.

“ah.” I say shortly.  She gives me a wry look before glancing into the small shack.  Some water drips in from leaks in the ceiling, and some wind whistles in from holes in the stone wall, but other than that, it is surprisingly sound.  Some hay is stacked against the stone wall, some blackened wood lies in the centre of it, where a fire once was. 

“Well, it’s hardly a palace, but it will do for now.” I say cheerfully.  She glances up at me, glaring.

“Do for now?  We have no idea how long we are going to be here!  Not only do we have nowhere to go, but I have no way of contacting Arrendelle for help.  Besides, half of the Southern Isles is probably looking for us by now.” She snaps, abandoning her usual cold impassivity in favour of fury. 

Oh dear.

“Your Majesty, I suggest you calm down.” I say flatly, watching her stalk away from me, running her hand through her white hair.  She whirls around to face me, her beautiful face alight with anger, her silver eyes narrowed with hatred.   Oddly, her anger somehow arouses me, my libido rushes irritatingly into life, much to my annoyance.  Now is not the time

“calm down _?! **CALM DOWN!?**_ If it wasn’t for you Charming, I wouldn’t even **_BE HERE_**!” she snarls, I fight to remain cool; I brutally repress my natural instincts to press her against the wall and shut her up. 

“You came here of your own free will Your Highness.”  I smirk, keeping my expression carefully blank, not that Elsa seems to have the patience for reading my eyes.  She balls her fists in the ochre fabric of her skirt, clearly furious.

“we both know that’s not quite true.   I had **_no choice_** in coming to this godforsaken country, you KNEW I had to protect my kingdom at any cost you slimy bastard.” She snaps. I notice the temperature is slowly increasing, the rooms getting warmer.  Whilst this is a pleasant change from her usual freezing, I need to calm her down before she turns the shack into an oven.

“alright, Alright!  I knew you would come if your country was threatened.  We have much more important things to worry about now.” I say flatly, raising my hands and approaching her as one would a wild animal.  She flicks her white hair over a creamy shoulder, eyeing me disdainfully.

“Like what?” she says indifferently, crossing her arms over chest.   I breathe a sigh of relief as the room starts to cool with Elsa’s emotions.  I move closer to her still, staring down into her reflective eyes.  A smile curves my lips; something which I know annoys her.

“Well, how to get out of here for a start.  My brothers will have guards posted on all the borders; they aren’t going to let such a valuable prize slip from their grasp so easily.” I chuckle, even though it’s really no laughing matter.  My brothers, Eon in particular, is loath to let anyone, especially a woman who he had bound and utterly under his control, beat him.  

“We could go through Elmira…” she mutters thoughtfully.  I shake my head.

“By the sounds of it, you and the Crown Prince don’t have the best relations.  Besides, he’s the one reigning at present, the king is still in the eternal slumber.” I murmur, remembering one tiny little detail which I had all but forgotten.  Elsa glares up at me unflinchingly, seeing something in my eyes which makes her narrow her own silver ones.

“You’re not telling me something.” she says flatly.  I smirk, inwardly cursing her uncanny ability to read me.

“You don’t need to know all of my dirty little secrets…speaking of which, I’m becoming increasingly interested in yours-“

“How would you like to take a fire ball to the face?”

“hint taken.”

“Don’t tell me.  There’s a jilted lover.” She tries and guesses at the cause for my hesitancy to go through Elmira.  I notice a definite tone of jealousy in her voice that makes me smirk.

“Oh Elsa, I’m flattered, really, but don’t worry, you’re the only woman for me.” I say smugly, inwardly thanking god for the change of topic. She glares at me.

“For your sake, I hope not.  Now will you please be a dear, and shut up.” She snaps.  I laugh before moving closer to her, running a finger down her pale cheek and putting it underneath her determined chin, lifting her gaze.

“Your concern for me is touching, but I will pass judgment on that.” I say smugly, a smirk curving the corner of my mouth; she gives me a withering look before wrenching her face out of my grasp.

“The day you pass judgment on me is the day you lose an arm” she snaps irritably.  I can’t help but observe how attractive she is when she is being obstinate.   I kneel down in front of her in the straw, examining her closely.

“You know I can’t resist you when you’re difficult.” I chuckle, watching her morally struggle with the choice she is being forced to make; either continue being irritable and give me amusement, or stop and be nice.  It doesn’t take her long to reach a decision.

“You can’t resist anything in a skirt.”

“How true”

She hits my chest lightly in response.  I laugh darkly before I quickly lean forward between her slightly parted legs, forcing them far apart, to cradle my hips.  She glares daggers at me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She snaps

“You’re wearing a skirt.” I chuckle as I slide my hand up her smooth thigh; I notice a small glimmer of lust in her silver eyes before she narrows them.

“I just escaped the clutches of a sadistic rapist, and you want to do this now?!” she snaps, her breathing slightly heavy.   I lean down my head and lightly nuzzle the warm flesh of her throat.

“you’re infuriatingly rational.” I murmur into her delicate ear before I lightly kiss her cheek, reluctantly removing my hands and sitting in front of her again, watching her gracefully right herself, glowering at me.

 “Anyway, we are getting off topic.  Escaping the Southern Isles isn’t our only problem.” I say seriously, noticing how the gold silk of her dress is pulled tight over a sleek hip.

“A regular ray of sunshine today aren’t you?  At the moment, I’m just thankful we managed to get the hell out of there.” She mutters, running her hand just under her breasts.  I scowl when I remember the scar there, undoubtedly placed there by Eon.  But if it was, why did it scar so soon? 

“What did he do to you?” I ask flatly, balling my fists.   She stares into my eyes before she sighs.

“a little torture.” She says shortly with sickeningly resigned tone.

“did he-rape you?” I ask hesitatingly.  She shakes her head; a movement which makes me expel the breath I had been holding.

“He didn’t get the chance.” She says lightly, her tone flippant.   I reach out and gently tug at the neckline of the dress, she tenses, her eyes flying up to meet mine. 

“Relax Elsa; I’m hardly going to hurt you.” I say softly.  She looks at me cynically, but she doesn’t react, and allows me to draw down the golden neckline of her dress just underneath her breast, allowing me to get examine her new scar in detail.  No matter how much I try to hide it, my face, thoughts and eyes darken.  The word ‘mine’ is scrawled into her pale flesh; It looks so stark, so ugly, so evil against the snowy pureness of her white body.  It’s almost like he has desecrated a sacred object, the urge to kill him is startling, I am only distracted from my murderous thoughts by Elsa reaching forward and lightly cupping my cheek.  I glance up to her reflective silver eyes, seeing my reflection inside the shining depths like two tiny mirrors.  Suddenly, she does something I never thought she would do.

She kisses me.

For a second, I don’t react out of surprise, the sensation of her oddly hot lips being pressed against mine leaves me reeling and astounded.  Suddenly, my mind catches up with itself and I respond to the deep kiss, oddly lacking its usual fire of lust, I run my hand through her flowing white hair softly as she pours emotion I didn’t know she even had into the meeting of our mouths, I feel her anger, her outrage, but also her fear, her fear of weakness.  When she breaks away from the kiss, I open my eyes slowly to find her silver ones glittering back at mine, unblinking.  I collapse onto the hay next to her, laying my hands on my chest as I stare at the roughly thatched ceiling.  I feel her follow suit, or heads lightly touching.  She shifts, tweaking the neckline back into place.  We lay in silence, listening to the thunder rumble angrily overhead, rain beginning to lash at the shack in the full glory of the storm.

 “You know that if my brothers find you, you’ll die?” I say tentatively, not telling her that they wouldn’t kill her straight away.  Eon would never let her get away that easily.

“I know.” She says simply, turning her face back towards the ceiling before sighing, a sound containing all the weariness of the world.

“You know, I’m not sure I like the idea of you dying, at least, not by my hand.” I say slowly, ending on a chuckle.  She gives a small breathy laugh in response.

“I’m touched.” She drawls delicately.  A smile curves my lips as I turn my gaze back towards the thatched roof.

“So, any ideas?” I say with mock cheerfulness which makes her groan. 

“other than go through Elmira?  No.” she says flatly.  I roll my eyes.

“Elsa, the royal pairs feelings towards you probably run more towards that of a murderer then of a saviour.  They are hardly likely to give us refuge, not against the Southern Isles.” I say pointedly, gesturing my hands in the air for emphasis, not wanting to go back there…I can’t, not whilst **_she_** is there.  Elsa draws herself up onto her elbows, leaning down at me, interrupting my fascinating study of the ceiling.  What can only be described as a delicious smirk curves her full lips.

“Use that lovely mind of yours Charming.  If someone rejects the advances of the golden prince of Elmira, then it’s not hatred they have to worry about.  It’s obsession.  In the past year, I have received over 200 letters from The Prince.  All very formal you understand, but all contain a hint of desperation, of disbelief that he could ever be rejected.  All we need to do is find the right place to press, and the doors will open.” She murmurs, her silver eyes flickering.  My eyebrows rise at her deliciously bad musings.

“Elsa, I’m shocked!  Isn’t that a little bit of bad behaviour for the pure and wholesome Queen of Arrendelle?” I say teasingly.  Her half smirk grows, reminding me of someone, but I can’t quite remember who.  Suddenly, I realise.  Me.

“You would be surprised.” She smiles.  I release a half chuckle, finding myself inexplicably aroused.  Little minx.  

“You have never been more attractive.” I smirk, reaching up and tucking a tendril of white hair behind her ear.  She gives a low laugh shifting away from me, no longer leaning above me but propped up on an elbow next to me, watching me closely.

“Elmira it is?” she asks.  I nod.                       

“Elmira it is.” I agree reluctantly.  Suddenly, she gives a small cry and collapses, her hands pressing against her chest, above her heart.  I quickly scramble onto my knees and lean over her grasping her shoulders, my eyes wide with panic as I watch a flurry of expressions cross her face which has grown paler, dark shadows form under her eyes and her high cheekbones grow more defined.  Intense, unguarded pain flicks through her features, she whimpers as she grows hot, unbearably so, I have to release my grip on her shoulders and I notice the straw underneath her begin to exude smoke, but she quickly drops back to normal warmth again, her body clearly in turmoil.  Panicking and mortified, I can only watch, helpless as I watch her battle with clearly immense pain.  Just as I’m starting to pray, she gasps and opens her eyes, sits bolt upright and gives a heart wrenching cry as flames suddenly envelop her fair skin in a fiery cocoon, I quickly stumble backwards, escaping the heat as she is consumed by it.  Just as suddenly, they draw back into her skin and she falls down again.

 Her pale face looks even whiter, her eyes shadowed and her breathing laboured.  I check her pulse, her heart is fluttering, not beating steadily at all.  I lean back on my knees, studying her worriedly.  We need to get her a cure, some way of getting this poison out of her system before it’s too late, but by the looks of it, she doesn’t have long left.  I shut my eyes in defeat as the howling storm rages, when suddenly they fly open as a desperate memory strikes me.  Elmira makes the drug, surely they more than anyone would know how to counteract an overdose.  I watch as her silver eyes flicker open, the metallic depths dark with pain.

“What-what happened?” she asks weakly, her voice showing a level of vulnerability I didn’t know she had.  I shake my head, ignoring her question. 

 “We need to get that drug out of you.” I say eventually.  She shakes her head weakly.

“I’m sure it will wear off.” She says shakily, but a glint of doubt appears in her eyes. 

“Elsa, I don’t think you have that long.” I say gently, knowing what I say to be true.  Her weakness, her increased body temperature…Her system isn’t made to contain such heat, no matter how much she tries to deny it, she can’t hide from the glaringly obvious truth, a truth we need to get to Elmira as soon as possible to avoid, no matter what (or should that be who?) will be in our way.

She is dying.

**The Brothers.**

“SHE DID WHAT?!”

Dominic roars, his jade green eyes showing his fury.  The five brothers in the room shrink back, but Eon stares at him calmly from the other side of the table, cradling his hand.

“She wielded fire.” He repeats again, like a parent explaining something to a small child.  Luca and Alexi both gasp.

“HOW THE HELL DID SHE DO THAT?!  NO ONE HAS WEILDED FIRE IN OVER THREE HUNRDRED YEARS!  NOT EVEN PEOPLE WITH BLAZE MAGIC CAN CONTROL IT!” He shouts, slamming his fist down on the table.  Eon examines it coolly.

“My guess is somehow the drug reacted to her magic.” He shrugs, his voice showing no hint of the pain he is in from the burns on his hand. 

“WHY DIDN’T WE SEE THIS COMING?!” he snarls, his towering height more obvious than ever. Eon shrugs again.

“We didn’t know what would happen when we gave her the drug.” He says calmly.  Gregory coughs tentatively, making Dominic’s head snap up.

“What?” he snaps at the claret haired man.  Gregory’s eyes flicker with fear (he knew that interrupting his brother in this mood could well cause cessation of life) but he swallows and holds his ground.

“We did.  The apothecary warned not to take more than one pinch a day.  Quite simply, We overdosed her.” He says, gaining confidence with each word.  Dominic’s eyes narrow, but not at anger at his younger brother.  His head slowly moves to Eon, Who stares him down flatly. 

“Eon.  How much did you give her?” he asks, gritting his teeth.  Eon waves his hand in the air dismissively.

“A little too much perhaps, but that’s not our problem.  Our problem is how to get her back.” He says flatly, leaning on the table, inwardly wincing at the pain rocketing from his injured hand.  Dominic laughs incredulously.

“Get her back?  I want nothing to do with her!  She tossed me and 20 other men in the air like rag dolls! She can go back to the Isen for all I care.”  He says with disbelief.  Eon rolls his lifeless dark green eyes.

“Exactly.  If word gets out that us, the brothers of the Southern Isles were not only beaten, but that we ran scared from a **_girl_** , then our reputation will count for nothing.  Unless we get her back here, and make an example of her, we will be laughed at from Westleton to Corona.”  He explains patiently.  Edward runs a hand through the front of his hair; Alexi and Luca exchange a glance whilst Oberon and Gregory remain silent.   The thoughtful silence is interrupted by the sound of two double doors banging open, the brother’s glance up to see William burst in, his usually fair complexion pale and drawn, his grey eyes haunted and wide.

 “You would not believe what I just saw.” He says, his voice trembling.  Eon and Dominic exchange a glance.

“Let me guess.  The Ice Queen with fire magic?” Dominic says flatly.  William gulps. 

“Yes, but that’s not all.” He says shakily, falling down into a nearby chair, rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“What happened?” Luca squeaks tentatively.  William lowers his palms and lifts his gaze to Dominic’s.

“I saw the witch with Dietrich and Nikolai…They were confronting her, and I was about to go and help them when-when coils of flames leapt from her hands and wrapped around them.  They died screaming…turned to ash.” He says hesitatingly.  The news is met with astounded silence; Dominic lowers his head, resting his hands on the table.   He remains like this for a few minutes, before raising his head and looking straight at Eon.  The words he says escape him in a growl, his jade eyes filled with hatred and anger.

“Find her.”

Eon gives a barely detectable smile before turning to leave the room.

“And Eon,” Dominic states behind him, his voice deathly calm.  Eon turns, raising an eyebrow.  Dominic stares him down.

“This time.  Kill her.”


	9. chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for your lovely reviews and kudos, they all mean so much to me, keep 'em coming! Good god, chapter 9! My, we have come a long way! This was originally meant to be a small four part story, but obviously, things are going a little…differently then I originally intended! Thank you for continuing in reading my little story of Helsa Smut my darlings, you have made me the happiest girl alive!
> 
> -Ava who is way to attached.

**Elsa**

_I stare at the woman in front of me, she looks vaguely familiar, long wavy white tresses flow over her shoulders and down to her waist, her pale face delicately sculpted like a china doll. In her right hand is a sceptre made of ice, in her left is an orb. A crown of ice sits atop her white head, my blue dress flows around her curvy form. I realise I am staring into myself, my reflection, but something's wrong, it isn't right. Her bright blue eyes are hard and cold, her regal bearing radiates displeasure and disdain. I feel myself shrink back, my eyes widening._

" _Who are you?" I ask softly, my voice shaking. She stares at me icily, her eyes sweeping up my lithe figure with contempt._

" _I am you." She says flatly, her regal voice betraying no emotion. I shake my head soundly._

" _No, you're not." I respond firmly. She shrugs elegantly._

" _I am the part of you that despises weakness, the part that spurns love and warmth. You call me the ice maiden." She says mechanically, the bright blue of her eyes terrifyingly empty. My eyes widen._

" _What are you doing here?" I ask hesitatingly, a thousand questions swirling around inside my mind. She stares at me blankly._

" _I am only here because you summoned me, I do not exist. I say what you wish me to say, so, I am here to warn you." She responds. I tilt my head in surprise._

" _What about?" I ask, curious. Her plump lips firm into a hardened line._

" _That prince you like so much." She says, her voice reminding me of something, of something I said. I shake my head rebelliously._

" _I don't like him." I say firmly, but there is a small quaver of doubt in my voice which she notes and narrows her eyes at._

" _Oh, you do Elsa. Maybe even love him-"_

" _ **Shut up."**_ _I hiss, my fury overriding my fear. She raises an eyebrow at my anger._

" _You slept with him. You know, I'd have thought that to be a little beneath you. You're a queen Elsa, and you're behaving like a whore." She hisses, her voice containing levels of contempt and disdain which leave me reeling._

" _I can do what I wish, with whom I wish!" I snarl, she gives a low chuckle in response, a hollow sound full of ice._

" _Not with the man the nearly killed you, you're kin and tried to snatch you're kingdom." She says in her lifeless low voice. I shake my head again, my anger and frustration building. I'm arguing with myself for crying out loud._

" _It doesn't matter." I snap, she raises her dark eyebrows._

" _It does. You can't trust him Elsa, no matter how much he makes you laugh, moan or feel happiness, you can never trust him. Don't feel. Don't feel. Don't feel…" those words repeat around and around in my head, the world starts to flux in and out and turn dark in the edges. The last things I see are her bright blue eyes before everything turns black_

I groan, my heavy eyes fluttering open as a beam of light hits my face, making me squint. I glance around the small shack, my mind lagging behind itself. Where am I? What happened? Suddenly, it all comes back to me. My fire, our escape, and the pain. What had happened last night was unlike anything I had quite felt before, it almost felt like…my heart was melting. But that can't be right, that's not possible…I feel a soft groan beside me, I glance down to see Hans, still sleeping but clearly waking up. I nudge him in his chest, his green eyes flick open irritably, but on registering my wakened form, they widen, he even  _smiles._ I feel my eyebrows rise at his inexplicable reaction.

"Your back" He breathes, his voice heavy with relief as he studies my face. I tilt my head, confused.

"I didn't go anywhere?" I question, surprised. He sits up, shaking his head.

"Not physically, no. You collapsed Elsa, you grew hot then cold, flames enveloped your body. To be honest, I wasn't sure you were going to live through the night." He says, glancing at me as he picks straw off of his shoulders before standing. My eyes widen.

"I-I don't remember that." I mutter, he leans down, offering me a hand up. Reluctantly, I take it, regretting my decision when I see a smirk cross his features. I release his hand, but I feel a sharp bolt of weakness, the world starts growing fuzzy and I nearly collapse again, but am quickly held up by Hans who grabs my forearms.

"Whoa Whoa, take it easy." He murmurs, I tilt my gaze up to his, forcing my eyes back into impassivity. With a small amount of reluctance, I let go, forcing myself to stay upright, even though the world swims threateningly. I straighten my shoulders, closing my eyes and gathering myself before I open them again, focused.

"We need to go." I say flatly before turning towards the door, Hans grabs my arm, tugging me back. I glare at him.

"About that, there's something I remembered last night. It turns out Elmira may just be what we need in more ways than one." he mutters, a smug half smile turning his mouth up at the corners. I glower at him, unable to stand his obvious pleasure at knowing something I don't. I fold my arms over my chest, raising a haughty eyebrow.

"Out with it." I say coldly. He gives an exaggerated sigh for my impatience.

"Elmira makes Sun Drug, the poison that's killing you. If there is a cure for whatever it is that's going on inside you right now Elsa, it will be there." He says firmly. I am unable to prevent the small spark of hope which his words plant inside me, even though I know it to be unwise. I glance down to the straw and notice that were I lay last night, the yellow mass is blackened and singed. I quickly stride towards the door, opening it and blinking in the bright sunlight. I stand in the wooden doorframe, glancing at our surroundings. In front of us lays the Echo Pass, a narrow canyon which connects Elmira and the Southern Isles, it is a high and intimidating sight. The passage way cuts straight through the middle, almost as if some bored god had taken a chunk out of the centre of a mountain.

I move into the sweet morning air, crisp with the remnants of the storm as I lead my horse from her makeshift stables and quickly vault onto her back, my previous weakness forgotten. I glance expectantly at Hans, who repeats my actions. I nod at him, he nods back before we quickly spur our horses on, cantering towards the chasm. As I glance behind me at the receding shack falling into the distance, I know that we don't have long before the wrath of the brothers catches up with us.

**Elmira**

"Adrian, our countries centennial celebration is in 5 months, and you  _ **still**_ haven't agreed to half of the entertainment or music, what do you do? Lock yourself away in this dusty library!" his sister snaps, golden eyes glittering like lost treasure, narrowed in her tantrum. Adrian doesn't look up, his cats eyes glued to the book in front of him, ignoring his petulant sibling.

"Yes, whatever you say." He says absentmindedly, turning the page. With an impatient sigh, she snatches the book out of his hands, glowering at him.

"You are not even listening to me! Your behaving just like father did!" she snaps. Adrian suddenly pays attention, his head snapping up.

"Don't you ever,  _ever_ , say that to me." his usually gentle voice is deathly quiet. Octavia's eyes widen slightly realising her mistake. The tension in the room skyrockets before Adrian sighs, realising there is no way he can get out of this without at least paying some degree of attention to his childish sister.

"Fine. Whatever you want to do, you can do." He says tiredly. She squeals with excitement, clearly getting the result she wanted for. She quickly tosses the book back on the oak table like it's diseased and gracefully prances out the room.

"WITHIN REASON!" he calls out after her, placing his head in his hands and groaning. With any luck, he will be able to escape the ball early, leaving his sister to do most of the meet and greet for him. He picks up the book from the corner of the table and opens the page and resumes reading.

" _Ice magic is not one of the more common forms of elemental magic; it is hard to control and even harder to maintain. However, fire is the most difficult power; even those with blaze magic are unable to wield it in its pure form due to its catastrophic effects on the human body, those with blaze magic are only able to control heat, making things hotter to the touch. These people also are the creators of Sun Drug, the warmth and energy inducing medication which, it has been rumoured, has curious effects when administered to creatures of magic. In minimal dosage, mild sickness can be expected, as well as blockage of power. In larger doses however, there will be irregularities in magic and, in the worst cases, eventual death. There is a cure; the cure for all ailments, an extremely rare herb that is said to heal even the largest of cuts or greatest of illnesses. It's rumoured to be in the hands of the Royal Family, traditionally kept by the Princess or Queen."_

He places the book down, frowning. " _Why am I even reading this_?" he wonders to himself before he shrugs before scraping his chair backwards, rolling his eyes as he straightens his red shirt, running a hand through his tousled golden hair. He pauses before leaving the room, going to find his sister before she sends an army to the Southern Isles to drag the object of her obsession to the ball. Or before she spends the entire fortune of Elmira on dresses.  _"Either way, I had better save the kingdom."_

**Elsa**

We race through the narrow stone passage, the sound of our horse's hooves hitting the ground echoes through the slim canyon like tiny waves of thunder. Suddenly, I become aware that the sound I'm hearing couldn't possibly be made by more than two horses. I glance over at Hans, who looks just as puzzled as I am. He looks over at me, I nod and we slow down, our fingers in our horse's manes.

"Whoa girl" I murmur soothingly to my white mare, whose ears flicker at the sounds. We glance around the canyon, almost waiting.

"It's not my brothers…it's in front of us…" He mutters, his words doing little to quell my mild panic. Suddenly, we see them, about five men in what I recognise to be the livery of Elmira; red tunics with the Sigel of a crown surrounded by a ring. We trot towards them, meeting in the middle. They take in my golden dress and Hans's slightly blood splattered coat, the man who I take to be the leader raises an eyebrow.

"Who are you two, and what are you doing coming through the Echo Pass?" He asks in a serious voice, his brown eyes dark and sombre. I run a hand through my white hair.

"travellers." I say flatly, avoiding using our names in a fruitless effort to bypass questions.

"And what are you doing crossing the border?" He asks suspiciously, his hands gripping the reigns of his bay horse. I shrug.

"is it illegal to visit the great land of Elmira?" I lie smoothly, out of the corner of my eye I see Hans's vaguely impressed look. The guard stares me down for a moment before turning his gaze to Hans for the first time, where he does an obvious double take.

"You!" he gasps, clearly shocked. I frown in confusion, glancing to Hans, who is looking just as puzzled as I am.

"have we met?" he asks politely. The guard shakes his head before breaking into a smile.

"No No Your Highness, forgive me. We have been ordered to look out for you and, if we were ever to find you, to escort you to the palace." He says in a reverent tone. My eyebrows rise higher, now very confused and more than a little amused, however a question plays on my mind. I cough, making the guard glance towards me, his gaze now containing barely restrained hostility.

"If I may ask sir, who ordered you to watch out for him?" I ask curiously. He gives a haughty sniff before glancing back at Hans.

"My Lord, who is this woman?" he asks, a clear tone of distaste in his voice which makes me pause. Why the sudden hostility? I open my mouth to tell him exactly who I am, when I receive a withering look from Hans before he glances back to the lead guard, waving his hand dismissively.

"just a whore I picked up on my journey, don't worry about her." He says flippantly. I glare at him, biting my tongue against a sharp retort. Why this secrecy? Either way, my instincts tell me (for once) to trust Hans, at least for the moment.

"A little well-dressed isn't she?" he asks suspiciously. I force my face to smooth back the glare. Hans chuckles.

"She's a  **very**  high end whore." He responds, clearly enjoying himself a little too much. The guard grunts before turning his horse around, an action mirrored by the other four. They start to move forward, not at a furious gallop, but at a brisk walk. I manoeuvre my horse closer to Hans.

"Remind me to kill you when we're alone." I hiss furiously. He gives an amused low chuckle

"I take it you didn't enjoy that as much as I did?" he says with his damnable arrogance. Blessedly, I'm close enough to kick his shin.

"You bastard! Why didn't you just tell them who I am?!" I snap. He gives me a smug smile.

"Do you really want to answer questions as to what exactly the Queen of Arendelle is doing in the middle of the Echo Pass with a devilishly handsome bloodstained man?" he asks with his oh-so-irritating confidence. I give a small huff.

"I'd say you're more pretty then handsome." I say sweetly. He splutters with mock offense.

"Pretty?!" He gasps, laying his hand on his heart with fake hurt. I smirk at his theatrics.

"uh huh. Although clearly, the person looking for you didn't mind. Who are we dealing with here?" I mutter, watching his amused expression drop to seriousness.

"None other than her Royal Highness Princess Octavia." He says cheerfully. I groan, leaning forward and pressing face into my horses neck in exasperation.

"Tell me you didn't-" I pause, seeing the look on his face, I groan again. "Oh god, you did." I say exasperatedly.

"I only slept with her, I swear" He tries to reassure me, like that's meant to make me feel better.

"I think any man with a title can lay claim to that." I say wearily, reminded of the rumours I've heard about the golden princess, however, despite my flippant words, I feel a small pang of something I can't quite pinpoint. He gives a small chuckle.

"What, aren't you jealous?" he says mock petulantly. I give a tired laugh, rubbing my eyes as I grasp my horses mane with the other.

"At the moment, I'm a little preoccupied to worry about you bedding some royal whore." I say calmly, feeling the pang grow. Instinctively, I recognise it. I am…jealous. I become aware of him shifting awkwardly on his horse, something that makes me narrow my eyes.

"Oh lord. Did you try and take her kingdom too?" I drawl wearily. He chuckles.

"No, I didn't. I just slept with her, honestly. Problem is, she rather took a bit of a shine to me, and was never quite as detached as I was" I groan again.  _Perfect._

"I may just kill you." I mutter, turning my face back towards the road. He laughs.

"You  _ **are**_  jealous!" I glower at him.

"Don't flatter yourself Charming." I snap. He leans over and runs a hand over my ochre clad leg. I fight the urge to kick him again.

"Deny it if you want Elsa, but don't worry, Your my one true love." He chuckles, smirking. I give a brief ladylike snort.

"How would you like to be impaled?" I ask sweetly. He shakes his head, still wearing that oh-so-slappable smirk.

"Can't I be beheaded?" he asks pleadingly. We spend the rest of the trip swapping possible death sentences.

**Eon.**

Eon kneels over the small patch of burnt straw, lightly running his fingers along it. " _Still warm"_ He inwardly observes before standing back up. He thinks fast. It's obvious where she is going; there is only one kingdom to go to: Elmira. Problem is, she is probably over the border by now.

"No. There has to be another way." He mutters. He glances down and notices the second indentation in the straw, how very interesting. It would seem Elsa hasn't incinerated Hans, even after her use for him is gone.

" _well well, the Ice Queen has a little bit of a soft spot for my little brother. How very unfortunate for her."_ He thinks, a small smile curves his lips. Soft spots are made to be stabbed. He turns away from the straw, leaving the small hut. He takes a deep breath of the fresh air, thinking. Even with this delightful information, there is very little he can do with it, not whilst they're in Elmira. He quickly mounts his horse, lightly kicking it into a walk, he is in no hurry.

" _So, the little Snow Whore ran away, how very typical."_ He thinks, inwardly sighing regretfully. " _I had her right where I wanted her, bleeding, helpless and terrified. Why couldn't she have just let me win? I wouldn't have hurt her-beyond what she deserved and needed. Honestly, a little slut like that thinking she could be a queen. No, I will find her, and I will finish what I started. I will not be beaten by a royal whore, magic or no. And when I drag her back, I will make sure she knows it. I'll make the Ice Queen wish she never ran away."_ His mouth turns dry at the memory of her naked, bleeding body, silver eyes wide with fear and hatred. That is definitely worth dragging back to the Southern Isles, preferably by those intriguing white locks. Double preferably kicking and screaming. His blood rises at the thought. Decision made, he spurs his horse on into a canter, galloping back towards the citadel.  _"Until I find her, I'll have to find something, or, more likely, someone to amuse me. Only platinum blondes of course. Now, as to Elmira…I think it's time we renewed our diplomatic relations."_

**Hans**

"Your highness…are you sure you want your…friend to stay?" the guard asks me hesitatingly as we wait in the Antechamber outside the throne room. I nod firmly.

"Yes. In fact, I think it's best if she is here when their Highnesses arrive." I say flatly, Turning towards the large arched windows and straightening my cravat distractedly. The guard splutters.

"With all due respect your Highness, are you sure that's wise?" he asks, eyes wide. I give him an easy smile.

"Certainly. Now leave us." I say confidently. He swallows and bows before leaving the large room, undoubtedly to find the royal pair.

"Why the sad face?" I hear Elsa ask behind me, amusement tinging her sweet voice. I turn around, taking my white jacket off. Not only is it bloodstained, but the warm weather of Elmira means it's far too hot to wear it anyway.

"I'm still stuck with you." I chuckle. She gives a small huff of impatience, walking towards me, the gold fabric of her dress billowing around her legs.

"My condolences." She says flatly. I glance around the echoing antechamber where we had been made to wait for the royal couple, made of warm limestone and a floor made of cool grey stone, red fabric is swathed around the walls and the high ceiling, arched windows look onto the city, the sounds of life snaking its way up to us. I flick my gaze back to the distinctly irritated woman in front of me.

"I'm going to warn you now; this is not going to be pretty." I say directly, not mincing words. She tilts her head, a small smile playing on her pink lips.

"Good." She says shortly. I shake my head in frustration.

"No, it's not. Octavia may look like a princess, but when push comes to shove, she will definitely shove. Do not underestimate her Elsa." I warn. She shrugs.

"If all else fails, I'll use my magic-" she begins to say, I cut her off with a glare.

"You are not going to use your magic Elsa. It's making it worse. Promise me you won't." I say insistently. She rolls her eyes and opens her mouth to respond when the double doors slam open. Both our heads snap up to see Octavia give a loud squeal of delight and quickly hurl herself towards me. Before I know it, her arms are flung around my neck and her lips are pressed against mine, reminiscent of a hyperactive puppy. I inwardly sigh before reciprocating the kiss, wrapping my arms around her slim waist, overly conscious of Elsa watching us, probably very, very amused.

"I knew you would come back!" she says excitedly against my mouth, forcing her tongue over my lips and into my mouth. I resist the impulse to push her away, forcing myself to bear it. The things I do for that white haired witch. When I find Octavia's hand running over the crotch of my pants, I decide it's probably time to draw the line. I firmly but gently, push her away, her golden eyes glitter with happiness and desire.

"Hello Octavia." I sigh, she laughs.

"Hello yourself" she giggles before quickly wrapping her arms around my neck and trying to tug me into another kiss, but I don't move.

"Come on Hans darling! I've missed you!" she pouts sulkily.

"Sorry to interrupt." Elsa's smooth voice speaks behind her, I glance up and see her drawn to her full height, back straight and silver eyes icy. Octavia turns around, arms still around my neck, reminding me unpleasantly of a noose. Her golden eyes narrow.

"Hans, who is this girl?" she asks me, her tone showing distinct disdain. Elsa crosses her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow calmly before looking towards me, her eyes showing amusement.

"Yes Hans, who am I?" She asks impishly. The damned minx is enjoying herself. I scowl at her.

"How dare you talk to him that way? He is a prince!" Octavia says haughtily. I give Elsa a smug look.

"How could I forget." Elsa says flatly. Even though Octavia's face is turned away from me, I can practically feel her eyes widen as the penny finally drops.

"Your-Your that Queen from Arrendelle." She stammers, surprised. Elsa rolls her silver eyes.

"Obviously."

In that moment, The doors open and Crown Prince Adrian walks in on the tableaux, his sister with her arms around my neck, traces of red lipstick from her kisses probably still around my mouth, Elsa, the Snow Queen now with silver eyes stands off to the side looking distinctly amused. He does a visible double take.

"what the hell is going on here?" he asks, bewildered. I exchange a look with Elsa, who bites her lip before turning back to Adrian.

"bit of a long story." She says slowly. The golden haired man starts again.

"What on earth are you two doing here?" He asks, clearly confused.

"Hello Your Highness." Elsa smiles, his manners snap into place despite the strange situation, he nods his head.

"Your Majesty." He says respectfully, despite his confusion. Elsa sidles up to him, laying a hand on his red sleeve, something which makes my blood rise possessively. He glances down at it, surprised.

"We are sorry we had to come like this without announcing ourselves, but I can assure you, we have our reasons." She says softly, her silver eyes locked with his golden ones. I narrow my eyes at the pretty picture, knowing I hardly have the right to get possessive with another girls arms around my neck.

"I don't know why you're here if Hans came back for me." Octavia says petulantly.

"I came to see your brother. What Hans does with his spare time is no concern of mine." She says sharply. Octavia either ignores the barb or just doesn't see it, turning back towards me and trying to kiss me again. I gently fight her off, holding her wrists.

"Later." I console her, swallowing the rising bile at the thought. Her eyes flare.

"As to what we are doing here-I think it's a topic better discussed privately. Besides, we should leave these two alone." Elsa continues smoothly. I glare at her, shaking my head furiously, sending a clear message: " _please don't leave me alone with this woman."_ she gives me a sweet sarcastic smile. He nods before offering her his hand which she takes.

"Thanks." I drawl at her retreating back with sarcasm which only Elsa picks up on. She twists around and winks at me, smirking before the doors close. I glance down into the transparently desire filled face of Octavia.  _Oh dear._

**Elsa**

"Please, take a seat." Prince Adrian mutters absentmindedly, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. I sit, watching him as he sits as well; not on the chair in front of me, but on the edge of the desk. A beat of heavy silence passes.

"How's your hand?" I ask awkwardly, remembering our ballroom debacle. He chuckles warmly.

"Healed. I did deserve that." He admits, his golden eyes flickering with amusement.

"Yes, you did." I agree firmly, making him release a nervous chuckle. We lapse back into the uncomfortable quiet.

"How's your father?" I ask tentatively, reminded of the eternally sleeping king. He shrugs, a pained expression crossing his defined features.

"The physicians are at a loss. Half of them say it will he will wake any day now, the other half say he will die any day now. Either way, I wish it would just hurry up." He says unexpectedly, shutting his eyes tiredly, his voice weary. I give him a sad smile before reaching out to lightly pat his hand which lies on his leg. He opens his eyes and glances down at my pale hand with surprise.

"I'm sorry." I say softly. He shrugs, his gaze flicking back up to my face.

"Why? It's not your fault." He says simply. I tilt my head at the odd response before I remove my hand.

"I suppose not." I say slowly. Seeming to have been given newfound confidence, he studies me openly.

"I suppose a good place to start would be your eyes. They were most definitely blue" he muses.

"I'm flattered you remember." I say playfully. He gives me a small smile.

"I'm hardly likely to forget. Now stop avoiding the question."

I sigh.

"I'm afraid it's complicated. You've clearly heard of my stay in the Southern Isles-"

"wait, how do you know?" he asks curiously. I wave dismissively.

"I saw the report on your desk. Anyway, let's just say that things got a little out of hand and they used Sun Drug on me." I explain slowly, watching his expression which he keeps blank, although a strange flicker of recognition passes over his attractive features when I mention Sun Drug.

"And what happened?" he asks, leaning forward. I shrug.

"Nothing really. That is, until I noticed my eyes had turned silver." I say shortly, not telling him about the strange effect it's had on my powers. It's better no one knows about that.

"I don't believe you." He says slowly. I give a gasp of mock horror.

"Me? Lie?!" I say teasingly. He stares me down.

"You're a queen. Bending the truth is part of your job." He says flatly, I give a small smile at the truth of this.

"Now, are you going to answer the question?" he asks directly. I raise an eyebrow at his bravado.

"blunt, aren't you?" I ask, amused. He shrugs, a smile crooking his lush red mouth.

"Yes. Now what is it?" he asks shortly. I release a nervous chuckle, running a hand through my hair.

"It's killing me."

His eyes widen with disbelief.

"Are you serious?" he asks softly. I nod, unspeaking. He releases a knowing groan.

"And you want a cure." He mutters.

"You have one?" I ask, surprised. A look of regret crosses his handsome features.

"Apparently." He sighs. I feel give a weak laugh of relief, I vaguely notice how he shifts uncomfortably.

"Thank god!" I breathe. He coughs, avoiding my eyes.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple…You see, I don't have it." He mutters. I frown, confused.

"Then who does?" I ask. He gives me a sad look.

"Octavia."

**Later.**

I tap my fingers against the hard wood of the vanity, nervous. Hans doesn't seem to be fairing any better, pacing up and down, uncharacteristically quiet. We have been allocated bed chambers, but I had joined Hans in his larger room as we wait. Adrian is talking to his sister about the situation, hoping to convince her to help me. However, as he hinted, I am getting an unpleasant feeling that she wouldn't give me the drug anyway.

"You're making me nervous." I snap to him, he pauses, glancing at me, a smirk curving the corners of his mouth.

"You? Nervous?" he says with mock surprise. I narrow my eyes at him, standing up from the stool in front of the dressing table.

"It does happen occasionally." I say haughtily. The retort I was expecting doesn't come, instead, he glances at the large doors to the airy chambers.

"You didn't have to kiss her you know." I snap, unable to prevent myself. He turns his gaze back towards me, He raises an amused eyebrow.

"Do I detect a faint tone of jealousy?" he chuckles. I shake my head.

"No." I say stubbornly. His arrogant smile grows.

"You're a terrible liar."

"you're a terrible person."

"You're still jealous."

"keep telling your ego that."

He laughs before his eyes grow serious.

"As you said Elsa, Octavia has the antidote. And she will not give it to you unless I show myself to be utterly devoted to her." He says softly. Whilst I know what he says to be true, I still don't like the idea.

"I suppose your right…" we lapse back into silence.

"I'm nervous as well." he says softly, almost to himself.

"Why on earth would you be nervous?" I ask, curious. He shrugs, giving me a half smile.

"You do realise that it's highly unlikely I'll ever leave this palace?" he says, his tone resigned. I frown.

"Why shouldn't you?" I ask, puzzled. He shrugs.

"You saw her. I left her once, you can bet she won't let me out of her sight again." He says softly. My lips thin.

"She will if I have anything to do with it." I say, my voice and eyes hard. He raises an amused eyebrow.

"getting protective are we Elsa? You want to destroy me remember?" he chuckles. I toss my hair over my shoulders.

"Exactly. How can I destroy you whilst you're stuck in Elmira?" I say teasingly. He nods mock seriously.

"Oh, of course, that's it." he says, the anxious tension in the room decreasing a little. We stand in silence, A question preys on my mind, I try to bite my tongue against it, but it persists.

"is she a good kisser?" I blurt out. Hans crosses his arms over his broad chest, damnably amused.

"What?" he asks, a regrettable smirk on his lips. I glare at him.

"The Princess. Is she a good kisser?" I say impatiently, regretting asking. He grins, not bothering to hide his amusement.

"well, not bad," he begins to say mischievously. I give a small huff of annoyance before grabbing his collar, pressing his lips to mine. He gives a small murmur of surprise before wrapping his arms around my waist, reminding me unpleasantly of the scene I had watched between him and Octavia. A surprising surge of possessiveness runs through me, I growl, eager to rid the image as I latch my hands onto the small opening of his shirt and tug him towards the bed. He gives another small noise of surprise as I, for once, initiate intimacy between us. I break the fiery kiss, staring up into his glittering emerald green eyes which narrow with realization.

"This is because of what happened with Octavia, isn't it." He says flatly. I glower up at him before I push his chest with my hands, pressing him down onto the red bed where he stubbornly sits upright. Alright, if he wants to play hard to get.

"You bet it is." I chuckle before I quickly straddle his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck before I resume kissing him hungrily, my tongue pressing against his lips as I grind against him, feeling a tell-tale hardness against my sweet core.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining." He grabs my waist, pressing me down hard against him, one hand runs along my curves, the other spears into my white hair.

"Lucky for you." I chuckle, unbuttoning his shirt front. I slide my hands down the revealed skin, pressing him down onto the bed. I bite his exposed collarbone hard.

"Why?" He asks playfully, capturing my chin and holding my gaze to his, his other hand gripping my waist, holding me to him. I give him a coy smile.

"Because I'm the Queen. I could have you executed." I murmur, bending my head and trailing kisses down his neck, followed by bites.

"I don't think you could." He says equally as smugly. I sit up, examining him underneath me, a haughty smile on my mouth, my hands splayed against his delicately muscled chest.

"No?" I ask teasingly. He gives me a self-assured smirk dripping with arrogance which makes my breath hitch.

"No." he confirms, grabbing my waist with both hands and flipping me over, so I lie underneath him. I glare up at him, irritated at our swapped positions, the power which was in my hands now transferred oh-so-neatly to him.

"There, much better." He says smugly. He leans down and places a feather light kiss on my cheek, then on my neck.

"just you wait till I get my powers back." I chuckle, delighting in the thought.

"Why? So you can throw a snowball at me?" He captures my gaze, his green eyes filled with amusement and desire.

"Damned straight."

"Oh Elsa. Always so delightfully defensive." He chuckles, running his hand across my jaw line. I scowl at him.

"oh Hans. So astonishingly annoying." I say sweetly in response. He smirks.

"I believe the word you're looking for is charming."

"I believe the word you're looking for is deluded."

With that, he leans down and kisses me, his lips pressed hard against mine. I reach up and lay my hand on the back of his head, holding his lips against mine. I am totally engrossed in the kiss when I hear a shocked gasp behind us. Hans freezes, breaks the kiss and stares down at me, his face showing panic.

"fuck." He mouths to me before swiftly climbing off me, standing up and doing up his shirt buttons. I sit up and stare at the murderous face of Octavia, her golden eyes glittering with anger.  _Fuck indeed._

"Hans, what are you doing?!" she snarls, beyond angry. Hans tries his best to look ashamed, but I see through it in an instance.

"Octavia! I'm sorry, she fostered herself upon me! I was utterly unwilling-" he begins to lie, I give a brief unlady like snort. Octavia narrows her eyes at me.

"you." She hisses, stepping forward, murder in her gaze. I don't bother to get up.

"Yes, me."

"You tricked him! You-You used your magic to enchant him! He is  _ **mine.**_ " She snarls, fisting her hands. I look at her with distaste.

"Firstly, he isn't a possession. Secondly, my magic is of ice, not lust, so despite what your clearly narcissistic mind thinks, I have not put a charm, enchantment, or curse upon your  **Ex-** lover." I say flatly, enjoying her horrified splutters as I fiddle with the neckline of my dress, tweaking it into place.

"I'm a princess!" Now that gets my attention, my head snaps up.

"And I'm a queen." I say haughtily, staring her down. She breaks eye contact first, glancing at Hans with so much adoration it makes me feel queasy.

"Hans, you can't possibly prefer this awfully pale creature to me!" she says breathily, her voice leaving no room for doubt.

"At least I'm not a spoilt brat." I fire back. Her eyes widen.

"How dare you!" she gasps. I give her a smug smile.

"I'm not a monster that nearly killed their sibling!" she snarls. I freeze at her words, fury rising inside me like an insidious cloud.

"That's enough!" Hans snaps, picking up on my anger. I ignore him and raise my hand, channelling my powers, entirely focused on the petulant woman standing in front of me. Hans gives a sharp intake of breath and takes my wrist, lowering it.

"Elsa, don't." he cautions me flatly. With regret, I heed his advice, but I glare at her darkly.

"Darling, are you really going to let her talk to me like that?" she asks Hans, fluttering her eyelashes. I fold my arms over my chest and glance up at him. Hans stays quiet for a minute, before his green eyes harden.

"Don't call her a creature." He says flatly. Both me and Octavia stare at him in surprise.

"What?" She asks, confused. His hands ball into fists.

"You called her a creature. She is in fact a person, more of a human being then you are, or could ever hope to be. And I happen to find her paleness extremely attractive." He says coldly, before glancing down at me, winking. I hide a grin. Meanwhile, Octavia looks like she might burst, her golden eyes saucers.

"but she's so- so unpleasant." She stammers, clearly trying to process what exactly is happening. He looks down at me, smiling.

"Exactly." He says softly. I fight the urge to kiss him, and instead glance towards the furious Octavia, who points at me with a trembling hand.

"this is you. I don't know how, but you have put some spell on him. But I promise you this  _ **witch**_. You will never, hear me? NEVER, get the antidote until you release him from your Evil enchantment." She snarls before whirling out of the room, her red skirt flaring at her hips and blonde hair swinging around her as she stalks out, slamming the door. I glance up at Hans, who stares down at me, green eyes wide with apology. I give a sad chuckle.

"That went well."

**Hans, later.**

I strip my shirt over my head, wincing from my stiff muscles from the riding and the wounds from yesterday's fight with my brothers; some dried blood runs in lines across my torso. I walk over to the small basin and pick up the cloth, lightly dabbing at my wounds. I stare into the mirror, sighing as I remember this afternoon's event. I couldn't do it. I couldn't pretend to love Octavia, with Elsa sitting right there on the bed, looking at me with those damned silver eyes and a bemused expression. And in doing so, I have quite possibly killed her. The snow-turned-fire angel is off god knows where, either having a bath or talking to that golden prince. I find myself scowling as I remember the way he looks at her. Not with the lust, or insanity of my brothers thank god, but with longing. Either way, I'm going have to stomach dinner with them-With the amused Ice Queen, the jealous princess and the doe eyed prince. This shall be interesting. I hear the door creak open; I presume it to be Elsa and carry on cleaning my wounds. I slip my shirt on over my head and turn around to find a blonde haired figure in front of me. Instinctively, I move further back, my legs bumping against the dressing table. My eyes widen as I take her in, her red dress showing more flesh then hiding it, huge slits up the sides of her legs and of her bodice, almost but not quite exposing her.

"Pretty, isn't it?" She giggles, referring to the dress. I frown, ignoring her.

"Why are you here?" I ask flatly. She pouts.

"I believe I may have been a little harsh before." She sighs, golden eyes glinting. I cross my arms over my chest, raising a sceptical eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"You know, You really can't help that that witch has enchanted you-" she says coyly, looking up at me through long eyelashes. I cut her off.

"She hasn't." I say flatly. She waves her hand dismissively.

"Whatever. Point is darling; I've decided to give you a second chance." She says, resting her hands on my chest. I grab her wrists, firmly giving them back to her.

"Oh really?"

"You see darling, I think that despite your foolish little…infatuation with that pale little creature, you still love me." She says coquettishly. I give a short bark of laughter, riled by her referencing to Elsa in that way.

"I never loved you." I snap. She gives me a coy smile.

"Oh Hans, that's sweet of you to protect your witches feelings, but she isn't here, you don't need to pretend." She says sweetly. I look down into her beautiful face and feel sick.  _How the hell did I sleep with her?_ _I was probably drunk. I hope I was drunk._

"Anyway darling. We both know you'll get bored of your sorceress soon enough, and I've been thinking. We really should get married, don't you think?" Her words, astonishingly confident, astonishingly blind shock me into laughter.

"if you think I'll marry you, your insane." I chuckle. Her eyes flare in anger.

"darling, if you don't marry me, I'll make sure that sallow little creature of yours never gets the antidote. You wouldn't want that, would you?" she says in her sickly sweet voice. My eyes widen at her words, shock, and then fury hits me.

"I'd rather die than marry you" I spit, my hands gripping the table edge. She smiles at me, filled with poison.

"In that case, your precious snow queen will."

"I can't. I won't." I say stubbornly, shaking my head as my grip on the table edge grows tighter. She giggles.

"Oh come now darling, there is no need to resist. You love me, remember?" She says, reaching out and running her fingers along my arm. I flinch.

"No Octavia, I  **don't.** You have to stop this, now. A woman could die, and you would let that happen just because you happen to have an infatuation with me?!" I say, incredulous. She giggles again, a high pitched noise which sets my teeth on edge.

"Hans, how can you call it an infatuation when you know it's true love? The choice is yours darling. Marry me, or let that queen of yours die."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we are again, into double figures-chapter 10, Jesus Christ…how did this even happen? Thanks for sticking with me guys! Ily n stuff! By the way, just lettin’ y’all know, next chapter there is some serious smut…we haven’t had one since chapter 5!!! For future reference: this fic may be progressing a little slower because I am working on not one, but on two new fanfictions, one is just a series of smutty drabbles, the other slightly more of an epic…check them out! SHOUTOUT TO MY FRIEND LIAM M. WHO IS SUCH A HUGE HELP WITH THESE...A LITERARY GENIUS MY DEARS

**Hans**

I lean against the wood of the dressing table, staring into my reflection, examining my own green gaze. 

**_“Marry me, or let that queen of yours die.”_ **

I slam my hands down, momentarily distracted by the novel feeling of wood against my uncharacteristically uncovered hands.  I make a mental note to get a new pair of gloves before I turn my thoughts back to my predicament.   Practically enslave myself to Octavia, or kill Elsa.  3 weeks ago, I would have firmly given you the answer and laughed for even asking the question, but now…I’m not so sure.  I had firmly shown the spoilt princess the door, but hadn’t given her an answer.  Hell, I don’t even know the answer.  I hear a tentative rasp of knuckles against a door, I know it not to be Octavia; she wouldn’t knock. 

“I didn’t think you were the knocking kind.” I call out flatly, well aware of who it is.  The door creaks open, and I glance over my shoulder in the mirror at the figure behind me, a dark eyebrow raised.

“I do have some manners.  I just don’t usually use them on you.” Elsa chuckles, a noise which makes my heart clench painfully.

**_“the choice is yours darling…”_ **

Elsa picks up on my unusual quiet, her beautiful face creasing in concern.

“Good god.  We have hardly been here five hours, and something’s already happened.  Who did you kill.” She asks flatly, a twinkly of humour in her eyes.  Against my will, my mouth twists into a smirk as I turn to face her.

“No one…yet.” I say sweetly.   I offer her my arm mock gallantly, a gesture which she takes just as sarcastically. 

“This will be interesting.” She mutters as we leave the room.  I glance down at her.

“oh?” we make our way to the private chambers of Adrian, where we shall dine. 

“think about it.  You, Me, Adrian and the girl who is convinced I’ve enchanted you in the same room.”  I chuckle.

“Promise me you won’t burn her to a crisp?” I ask playfully, although at this point, I would love nothing more.  Elsa looks up at me, pouting.

“Can’t I at least singe her?” she whines.  I give a theatrical sigh.

“No Your Majesty.”

“boring.” We reach the doorway, where to guards are posted in the red livery of Elmira.  It briefly crosses my mind that almost everything in this godforsaken palace is crimson.  They nod respectfully, apparently made aware of whom we are.  Elsa had made the decision to be here officially; the platinum blonde misses her paperwork.  Her two day hiatus can be written off as an attempt at quiet travel, her appearance in the kingdom as a desire to improve diplomatic relations.  All very neat.  If only the truth was as simple.  We walk into a cosy antechamber; a large wooden table is in the centre, filled with delicacies.  Octavia and her brother are already seated, Adrian in his typical red shirt.  I notice how irritatingly attractive he looks; golden hair lit by candles which makes him almost look like he has a halo, amber eyes and a pouting red mouth smile gently as he stands according to etiquette.  Elsa leaves my side to go sit by him as directed, leaving me to sit next to Octavia.  I swallow before I take my seat to her left, I can’t help but notice how Adrian pulls Elsa’s chair out for her, as she sits his hands linger on the back of the chair longer than necessary.  I force my expression out of a glare and back into a relaxed pleasant smile, although the atmosphere in the room is anything but.  We sit in uncomfortable silence, Elsa clearly remembering Octavia’s outburst from earlier, the princess in question staring at me adoringly.  Adrian clears his throat.

“So, Your Majesty…How are things back in Arendelle?” He asks, breaking the quiet.  Elsa shoots him a teasing smile.

“Elsa, please.  And they are recovering, thank you.” She says politely.  None of us touch the food.

“Tell us Elsa.  How does a kingdom recover from being placed in an eternal winter?” Octavia asks cattily.  The silence grows even quieter, you could have heard a pin drop.  Three pairs of eyes in the room narrow towards the princess, both me and Adrian open our mouths to chastise her, but Elsa beats us to it.

“the invitation for first names was extended only to your brother Your Highness.  Furthermore, before you can make comments about ruling a kingdom, I suggest you rule one someday-oh, except that’s not likely to happen, is it?” Elsa muses.  Octavia huffs, Adrian gives a lazy half smile. 

“And on that note, please, eat.” He chuckles.  The tension in the room eases a bit.  I immediately see the jug of wine and quickly pour myself a glass, ignoring protocol. I’m going to need it if I am to survive this evening.  I feel something sliding up my thigh, I glance down and realise with surprise that it’s a delicate hand.  I visibly jump before pushing Octavia’s hand away, looking up at her and glaring.  I lean over.

“Do you mind?” I hiss.  She giggles.

“No, and you don’t either darling.” Her hand snakes its way back to my crotch.  I push it away again, already exhausted, and the evenings just begun.  I look up to see Elsa watching the exchange, an amused smile on her lips, but her silver eyes stony.   They narrow fractionally before she delicately picks up a grape from her plate and pops it into her mouth before turning to Adrian and muttering something.  He looks surprised before relaxing and laughing.  I glance back to the practically drooling Octavia and sigh.

It’s going to be a long night.

“Your Highness-“ Elsa begins, he cuts her off.

“Adrian, please.” He corrects her firmly.  She smiles.

“Adrian.” She says, testing the name.  I start to feel a scowl slip onto my features-which is exactly what Elsa wants, the minx.

“Hans darling, why do you persist in looking at her when I am sitting right beside you” Octavia murmurs in my ear, resisting her clear urge to stick her tongue into it.

“Because dear Octavia,” I murmur, putting sarcasm on the ‘dear,’ something which is clearly lost on her.  “She is better than you in every way.”  I glance back at Elsa, who is covering her mouth on a laugh at something Adrian said.  Octavia huffs.

“In every way?” she says coyly, her hands quickly sliding up my thigh again.  I give a hiss of irritation before shoving her hands back, not as subtly this time.  I feel eyes on me, I look up to see Elsa looking at me curiously.

“Is everything alright charming-I mean Hans.” She corrects herself.  I give her a reassuring smile.

“totally” I turn and glare at Octavia, who giggles and winks at me.  

**Elsa**

_Why the hell does she have to giggle like that?_

I turn my gaze from the oh-so-irritating princess and the auburn headed man and back to Adrian, who golden eyes smile as well as his mouth.  He is refreshingly easy to read, unlike Hans who is infuriatingly impassive.

“Okay, Your Highne-sorry, Elsa.  I must confess, I was confused when I heard that you and the prince were travelling together, considering your-history.” He says softly.  I tilt my head and allow myself to divulge.

“I didn’t really have a choice.  He told me his brothers were going to invade my kingdom.” I say, keeping my voice carefully low so as to evade the ears of Octavia, who seems to be trying to quite literally get in Hans’s pants.  I delicately pour myself a glass of wine and take a meditative sip, turning back to Adrian.

“Ah.  You didn’t go for the coronation, did you?” He says, narrowing his eyes in thought.  I give him a teasing smile.

“Nope.  You’re a smart boy, figure it out.” I challenge him.  His brow furrows before it eases, he gives a wry chuckle.

“oh god.  You went to depose them, didn’t you?  To put the wayward prince on the throne.” 

“My my, you are clever, aren’t you?” I say flirtatiously.  He glances at me with surprise.

“and your behaving strangely.  Last time we met, I was-shall we say, intoxicated, and tried to grope you.  For which, I should add, I am immensely sorry for.” He says in his flowery speech.  I smile.

“You’re forgiven.  And I owe you an apology for the hand.”

“I rather deserved it, don’t you think?”

“Honestly? Yes.”

I take another sip of wine, realising how remarkably relaxed I am.  Hans is on the other side of the table, fully preoccupied with the very persistent Octavia, who is **_still_** giggling.  I become aware that Adrian is staring at me intently.  I turn my face back towards him, raising an eyebrow. 

“Penny for your thoughts Adrian?”

“Cost you more than a penny I’m afraid.”

“oh?  And what will it cost?” I am astounded at my own boldness.  He chuckles, his intense gaze searching my face.

“I’ll settle for a dance.”

“I hope it won’t be a reoccurrence of what happened last time we took to the floor.” I chuckle.  He shakes his head.

“I solemnly swear.”

“Then I suppose it is my duty to acquiesce.   When?” 

“Whenever there’s music.” I laugh, realising, with some surprise, that I am actually enjoying the company of the Prince.  Glancing over at Hans, whose face looks like thunder as he has a hissed conversation with Octavia, It occurs to me he probably can’t say the same thing.  

“I take it that you and he are- together?” Adrian murmurs hesitantly.  I don’t look at him, unspeaking as I stare at the auburn prince, who is blatantly furious.

“No.” I say eventually, turning my head to look at Adrian. 

“good.” He smiles. 

“Oh?  Why?” I laugh.  He looks at me seriously, leaning forward to whisper in my ear.

“Octavia is a jealous girl Elsa.  She will not abide a rival, **_especially_** not where Hans is concerned.” He murmurs.  I look at the two in front of me; Octavia batting her eyelashes at a scowling Hans.  I can believe it.

“Why?  What happened between those two?” I ask, tilting my head to examine Adrian properly, his face close to mine.  He shrugs gracefully.

“I’m not entirely sure.   All I know is they were…sharing a bed together, he left her and she never really got over it.  I heard about what happened this afternoon Elsa, Octavia told me.   Whatever it is you have with him, it has to stop.  For your sake-and for his.” As I look into his eyes and see the concern there, I bite back the sharp response I would otherwise have given, and simply look back at Hans.  I know what he says is true, If I want to leave here breathing, then I need to give the illusion that there is nothing between us, and yet…Hans glances up from his food, green eyes locking with mine.  I feel my stomach twist.   Oh god…was that-?

“I know.” I say softly.  Silence descends on us, Octavia seeming to have abandoned her attempt to work her way inside Hans’s trousers (for now at least) leaving the space blessedly bereft of giggles.  The quiet isn’t as tense as before, punctured by the occasional sound of chewing.  Octavia breaks it.

“Me and Hans have an announcement to make.” Her golden eyes sparkle with malice.  Hans stares down at his empty plate.

“No, we don’t.” he says flatly.  She giggles.

“don’t be silly dearest.   Your Majesty,” she looks at me, placing sarcastic emphasis on my title, “I have decided to give you the antidote.” I spit out the wine I was sipping, surprised.  Why would she change her mind?  I glance to Adrian, who looks just as shocked as me, and then to Hans, whose face is darkening as he glares down at his plate.  A thought strikes me, which makes my eyes widen.  _Hans… what have you done?_

“Why the sudden change of heart?” I narrow my eyes at her.  She giggles again, infuriatingly.

“my heart didn’t change, but his did.” She glances at Hans, who finally lifts his head, murder in his gaze as he glowers at her.

“No, it hasn’t.  Octavia, whatever you’re doing.  Stop.” His voice is controlled, terrifyingly so.  He turns his gaze towards me, the green depths hypnotising.  I tense, my hands gripping the fork in my right hand all too tightly.  I feel the metal start to heat up with my stress.   Her resulting giggle makes a surge of uncontrollable magic rise to my fingertips, I frantically quell it.

“Oh Hans, there is no need to delay the inevitable.  You know as well as I do that you’ll agree eventually.” Her words make me narrow my eyes and flick my gaze between the two.  My vision starts to blur alarmingly.

“Agree to what?” I ask softly.  She looks at me, a smile filled with triumph as a warm thud begins in my heart.  Her pretty face constricts in and out.

“Why, to our marriage of course!”

I drop the white hot fork, standing up and stumbling backwards, the world swimming before me, I collapse, my vision deserting me before I am forced to close my eyes.  I hear chairs scrape backwards and alarmed voices which sound somehow distant call my name, so worried.  The last thing I hear is the giggle of Octavia before a burning heat consumes me, and I lose consciousness entirely.

**Hans**

I give one last glance to the unconscious Elsa, who lies on the golden bed of Adrian, platinum blonde hair spread over the pillow like a halo, her beautiful face looks like it’s been carved out of marble.  She had collapsed at dinner, no flames like last time, just-fell.  Her temperature flicked through white hot back to cool, although neither of the golden royals had noticed.  Adrian was too concerned, and Octavia was far to delighted.  Octavia…my lips thin as I turn away from the bed, going to find the princess who has the power to stop this.  I hesitate at the door to the chambers, glancing one last time at the sleeping queen and the prince who watches her before I leave the room.  I know what I have to do.  Thankfully, Octavia’s chambers are next to her brothers.  I knock on the door, short sharp raps. 

“Come in.”

I open the door and find myself in the all too familiar bedroom of the Princess of Elmira, the red wall hangings and the heavily perfumed air makes my head spin.  I find Octavia sitting at her vanity, brushing her golden river of hair.  She smiles as she sees me.

“Hans darling, it has been all too long since you were last in my bedchambers.  Come to finish what I started at dinner?” her high voice grates on me, so different to Elsa’s slightly husky low voice.  I cross my arms over my chest.

“I’m here for Elsa.” She turns and pouts before standing, her fair legs sliding through the two high slashes in her gown.  Rather than find myself aroused by the display of flesh, I am vaguely repulsed.

“Has she woken up yet?  Will she ever wakeup?  Tell me darling, how does it feel to know that you have the power to save her, and you do nothing?” she titters, golden eyes glittering in the low candle light.  I grab her wrist, hard, uncaring if I hurt her.

“You’re the one who can save her Octavia.” I hiss.  My jaw tightens before I force a plea out from my lips.  “Please.  Don’t let her die.” she giggles.

“I never thought I’d see you beg darling.  It really doesn’t suit you.  You know how you can save your precious queen dear.” She runs her free hand up my shirt front, my grip on her other hand tightens, she merely laughs.                                     

“If you kill me darling, you will never get the antidote.” I reluctantly release her wrist.  She gives me a flirtatious look before walking away from me, her hips swaying.  She undoes the two clasps holding up the fabric at her shoulders, causing the red fabric to flutter to the ground, leaving her in her typically crimson undergarments.  In a display meant to tempt me, she turns around, a smug smile on her pink lips.

“Would it really be that bad Hans?  We had fun here once, we could again.” I give a sharp bark of laughter. 

“I would rather die.” She shrugs flippantly, walking towards me.

“So will Elsa.” she giggles.  I sigh, gritting my teeth, finally making a decision.

God help me, Elsa had better appreciate this. 

“if we marry, you’ll give Elsa the antidote?” I say finally.  Her Cheshire-Cat smile grows wider before her hands slide up the front of my shirt, unbuttoning.  I force myself to ignore the repulsive feeling, and fist my hands by my side. 

“I am a woman of my word.” She ends on her customary giggle, sliding the shirt off my shoulders.  It falls to the ground.  I fight the urge to run away, and merely close my eyes, unable to look at her pretty calculating face any longer.

“I have one condition.  Until we wed, give Elsa enough of the drug to survive on.” My voice comes out even, even as I feel her run her hands along the lines of my chest.  She laughs. 

“fine.”  She loops her slim fingers in the waistband of my pants and tugs, dragging me to the bed.  It’s with a deep sense of resignation that I surrender, my body and my life into pleasing this vain, spoilt princess.  All for a woman who I tried to kill. I must be insane.  She presses me down to the mattress, I open my eyes to find hers sparkling with triumphant possessiveness.  I speak my last four words before she covers my mouth in a greedy forced kiss. 

“I will marry you.”

**Elsa**

I groan, a deep ache in my chest leaves me reeling before I force my heavy eyelids to open, my vision blurs, and then focuses as my mind slowly catches up with myself.  I sit up groggily, taking in my surroundings. I’m in a rich bedroom of some sort, red and gold furnishing.  I’m sitting in the centre of a huge bed with the same matching red and gold counterpane.  

_Where the hell is Hans?_

I frown.  Why was that my first thought?  I’m interrupted in my musings by a relieved male voice. 

“Elsa!  You’re awake!” I snap my head to the side, the world moving swimming before me.  I see Adrian standing up, golden eyes wide and innocent, ringed with dark circles.  I notice sunlight streaming in through the window; it seems to be the middle of the day.  I turn my gaze back towards him.

“What happened?” I ask slowly, my tongue feels like lead in my mouth.  He smiles sadly.

“You fainted.  You’ve been out all night.” My eyes widen.  I must be weaker than I thought…

“Have you been awake the entire time?”

“Well I was hardly going to climb into bed with you.”  He gives the closest expression he can possibly do to a smirk.  I give a small chuckle, which ends in a small cough.  I don’t have long for this world…If I am to die; I want to do so in Arendelle, not here.  I have already named Anna as my successor, but I didn’t know it would be so soon- I feel tears gather in my eyes, which for once, I don’t bother to hide.  I finally face the truth.

“I’m going to die soon” I whisper, horrified.  A tear spills down my cheek, then another, and another.  I feel the weight of a body climbing into the bed next to me, a strong arm is placed around my shoulders.  For once, Uncaring about seeming weak, I press my head against a lean chest as a hand strokes my hair. 

“Elsa, we will find a way around this, I promise.  I’ll talk to Octavia.” Adrian’s voice calms me down, stops the tears. 

“Not necessary.” A mocking low voice speaks from the doorway, my head shoots up to see Hans, who looks blatantly amused at the intimate spectacle in front of him.  I hurriedly wipe away my tears, glaring at him as I gently remove Adrian’s arm from my shoulders.  I glance towards the golden prince, who looks confused.  I lay a hand on his arm.

“Adrian, could you give us a minute?” the prince nods, gets up and leaves the rom, nodding at Hans as he strides past him.  The instant the door clicks closed, I glare at Hans. 

“What are you talking about?” I snap.  He gives me a self-satisfied smile before unhurriedly walking towards me in the bed.  I see he is holding something in his hand; a glass filled with an opaque liquid, a blue tint to it.  He stands beside me; my eyes widen and fly up to his face before he holds it out to me. 

“Is that what I think it is?”

“Yes.”

I stare at it, not accepting it.  A wave of dread rises in me.

“Hans…how did you get this?” I stare into his entrancing green eyes.  He looks back at me intensely.

“I did what I had to do.” He presses the glass into my hand, and my fingers curl around it.  It feels delightfully cool, and I am about to drink when I notice several small bite marks along his neck…

**_“I did what I had to do…”_ **

“Oh god, you didn’t do what I think you did, did you?” I watch his reaction.  He runs a hand through his hair before tossing me an easy smile bellied by the discomfort in his eyes.  He motions for me to move over in the bed, I do, giving him room to sit beside me.  He stretches his long legs out on the bed, not looking at me.

“I consummated my engagement.”

“You did **WHAT**?!”

“Elsa, you can yell at me after you drink.” His calm voice reminds me of the lifesaving liquid in my hand.  I stare down at it before squeezing my eyes shut and bringing the glass to my lips.  It doesn’t really taste of anything, it’s just cold.  I don’t open my eyes, waiting for something to happen in my body, for what exactly, I don’t really know.  I open my eyes, frowning.

“Nothing’s happening-Why are you staring at me like that?” Hans is looking at me with a ridiculous grin on his face, he quickly gets up and grabs a hand held mirror from a table and brings it to me.  I hold out my hand, and laugh delightedly at what I see.

My eyes have turned back to azure blue.

I stop mid laugh to gasp with shock as I feel my ice start to return to my body in a rush, all at once, the tingling sensation not painful, but almost like a tickle, gentle.  It stops, not getting rid of the fire I know to be inside me, but stopping the dull ache in my chest, keeping me **_alive._** I look up at Hans, smiling. 

“Thank you.” I grab his collar and press his lips to mine.  The kiss isn’t fiery, but one of acceptance.  He tried to kill me, my sister.  Tried to take my life and my throne, but, I realise now.

I forgive him.

I break from the kiss, cupping his cheek with my hand as I stare into his eyes, a sparkling green.  He understands. 

“Octavia will give you one glass of the antidote every day.   It won’t cure you, but it will keep you alive-” I cut in.

“Why did you do this for me?” I ask softly.  He shrugs.

“Because I…I want you to leave Elmira breathing.” He was clearly going to say something else at the start, but he catches himself and regains his typical arrogance.   

“That sweet of you.  You know, I guess this means we’re even.”  He chuckles.

“Oh no we aren’t.  I’m practically enslaving myself to a spoilt little princess for you My Queen.  You, Your Highness, are utterly in my debt.” He sounds so smug that I can’t refrain from laughing. 

“I suppose I am.” I chuckle, before sighing sadly.  Hans is going to marry Octavia.  To save me. 

“So, when’s the wedding?” I ask, taking a deep breath and forcing my voice into playfulness.  Hans stares down at his tightly linked fingers which rest on his chest.  He shrugs.

“no idea.  Soon probably.   A few weeks at the most, my fiancée is very eager. Want to come?”  I laugh.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” We sit in silence, words don’t need to be said between us.  The door creaks open, and in skips Octavia.  She looks unbelievably smug, her golden eyes glitter with triumph.  She makes a small ‘tsk’ noise when she sees me and Hans on the bed together.

“Oh good, I see you’ve given her the antidote.  My, what an off putting shade of blue your eyes are Your Majesty.”  I bite my tongue against a sharp retort.

“Thank you for your compassion in giving me the cure Your Highness.” My voice drips with sarcasm.  She giggles, ignoring it.

“I know, quite the figure of mercy, aren’t I?  Now come on Hans darling, we are engaged after all, and I really don’t approve of you being in bed with another woman.  Your mine now, remember?” I fight the urge to freeze her where she stands ( _note to self, check powers)_ and simply flick my gaze to Hans, who sighs before sitting up.  He walks over to Octavia, who gives me a look of triumph before seizing his collar and pressing her lips to his in an exaggerated possessive kiss.  Her message is obvious; Mine.

Hans hesitates before (with obvious regret) wrapping his arms around Octavia’s thin waist, kissing her back.  A stab of jealousy hits me, I try and quell it.  I need to get used to this.  And yet-is this right?  I am making Hans marry this…this woman, just for myself.  But nor do I wish to die…I could always freeze her after they marry.   By the way Adrian talks of his sister, I don’t think he’d mind.  The thought warms my blood.  I become aware that Hans and Octavia have finally stopped kissing, (they had to come up for air at some stage I suppose) the princess is tugging him towards the door.  He gives me one last rueful look before blowing me a kiss with his free hand.  I mime catching it, taking comfort in the familiar smirk that crosses his features before he is dragged out the door entirely, leaving me on my own. 

I pull off the counterpane, sliding out of the bed and standing shakily.  Never before had I wanted to freeze someone quite so badly-with the exception of Eon.  _Eon…_ my dark thoughts rise insidiously as I remember him, his hands on me, hurting me, taking me…no.  He probably died in that burning room.   Burning…That’s right, my powers.  Do I still have fire magic, or my ice?  Or even…I halt that last terrifying thought before I outstretch my hand, concentrating on creating a small flurry of snow, something I would have been able to do as easily as blinking.  

Nothing happens.

Not even fire, no flames, and no ice.  Just a hand, and the air above it. 

 _Fuck_.

I ball my fist and allow it to drop by my side, surprisingly calm.  After all, I wouldn’t have had many opportunities to use my powers here anyway.  So long as Octavia keeps to her word and gives me the full antidote after her and Hans are…are wed, then I shall have my powers and be on my merry way, and can pretend that none of this ever happened. 

Both the scar on my chest, and the heart underneath it warn me that this adventure won’t be that easily forgotten.

Besides, I can’t leave Hans with that woman, not after he saved me.  I’ll think of something.  I am distracted in my musings by a tentative knock on the door; I glance at it in surprise.

“Enter” I call, Adrian pops his head round the door comically.

“Is my sister dead?”

“No, why do you ask?”  He gives a warm chuckle.  

“I saw her come in.”

“A fair assumption, but no, she is very much alive.”  I laugh, he smiles at the sound before his eyes widen slightly.

“Your eyes…they’re blue again!  Did Octavia give you the cure?” he is clearly surprised, he moves from the doorway and towards me, stopping at a respectful distance.  I sigh.

“Sort of.” He frowns, confused.

“Sort of?”

“She gave me enough to live-for now.”  Something flickers in his eyes, something I had never expected to see in them.  Anger.

“Let me guess.  This has something to do with last night’s news?”

“It looks like we will be expected a royal wedding after all.  I’m afraid that I’ll be in your hair for the next few weeks, until the two are wed and I can get the antidote.”  My resigned voice makes his golden eyes glitter with anger.

“Octavia may be a princess, and she may be my sister, but she is a nasty little creature.  She doesn’t understand that practically killing the Queen of Arendelle is frowned upon, to say the least.  Elsa, I am so, so sorry.  If it was mine, I would give it to you in a heartbeat, really, I would, but…” he trails off, losing the fire fuelling his impassioned speech.  I give him a sad smile.

“I know you would.” We stand in silence before he straightens his broad shoulders, smiling at me kindly, so different to Hans’s mocking smirk.

“Do you need cheering up?”

“Yes.”

“good.” He playfully grabs my right hand and gently tugs me towards the door, moving quickly.  I laugh before picking up my skirts and following him, my spirits lifting.  We run through the palace like children, so different to my usually queenly stride.  The unastonished looks from servants tell me this is a regular occurrence for the palace of Elmira.

“wait wait, where are we going!” his enthusiasm reminds me of someone, suddenly, I remember who. 

Of Anna.

“Where I go when I’m sad.” We run past a large spiral staircase, to a much less ornate one which we canter down.  He presses against a double oak door, ushering me inside.  Much to my surprise, I find myself in a cavernous empty kitchen, where hundreds of servants could work for feasts and balls.  I give an amused smile, crossing my arms over my chest as I watch him, curious.   He opens what looks to be an ice chest, retrieving two bowls.  He places them on the worn wooden table, before retrieving two spoons.  He slides a bowl across the table towards me, I stop it with my hand and look at the contents, surprised.

“ice cream has marvellous healing powers.”  I chuckle before picking up the spoon.  It’s been forever since I’ve had ice cream-how ironic.  He sits opposite the table to me.

“How true.”

“it’s a dreadful expense, but totally worth it.” I glance up at him through my eyelashes, curious.

“Alright, I have a list of questions.”

“Shoot.” He waves his spoon in the air, not looking up.  I’m surprised by his openness.

“How on earth does a prince regent even know where the kitchens are, let alone where to find spoons and ice cream?” he looks up and smiles.

“When you’re a prisoner, you come to know every nook and cranny of your jail.  Besides, knowing where the ice cream is kept is a priority.” His odd response merely makes me wish to ask my questions, but I see his reluctance to speak further of it, so I let it slide. 

“okay, second question.  If you’re that upset about Octavia not giving me the cure, why don’t you just make her give it to me?  You’re her brother for crying out loud.” He gives a derisive snort.

“You think that means anything to her?  You saw her.  Anyone who stands between her and Hans is toast.  In your case, quite literally.” He chuckles. I glare at him.

“Ha. Ha.”

 Silence falls between us as we both finish our ice cream; I place my elbows on the scarred tabletop, clasp my hands together and rest my chin on my knuckles as I look at him.  He notices me staring and raises an eyebrow. 

“yes?”

“just thinking.”

“about?”

“you.”  A wry smile tugs at his mouth at my short response.

“Should I be flattered or concerned?”  I laugh.

“Neither.  I was wondering how you can be so different to your sister.”  At my words, his gaze turns sharp and wary.  He leans over and plucks my empty bowl from in front of me.

“Let’s just say we had very different upbringings.”  At the warning in his voice, I decide not to press further. 

“Adrian…Thank you.” A smile curves his lips, he raises an eyebrow.

“what ever for?”

“I don’t know yet.”

He laughs before moving around the table, offering me his arm.  I take it.

“I’m sorry, I had planned to show you around the citadel, but urgent kingly business calls.”

“Kingly business?  Is that a technical term?” I chuckle as we leave the room, going up the staircase again.

“Alright, what do you call your ‘affairs of state?’”

“Boring.”

 **Adrian, later.  
** I sigh, rifling through papers, picking them up and tapping them against the desk in a bunch, organising them neatly.  I am nearly done for the afternoon, _thank god._  Night is beginning to fall over Elmira, the citadel slowly succumbing to the darkness, the walls which surround the city turning pale pink with the setting sun.  He stares out the window absently, resting my chin on my palm.

“What a day.” I whisper softly, mulling over the day’s events…and the nights.  Elsa, collapsing gracefully onto the floor, all pale skin and white hair, Octavia giving her the cure, but forcing a man to marry her.  She really is barbaric.  Now, the question is.  How can I stop her?  I can’t let the man Elsa obviously has feelings for, however peculiar those feelings are…can I? It’s obvious that Hans feels for her just as much, the dark looks he sent towards me last night were unmistakable, the two just don’t seem to know it yet.  But, the question is, can I do anything to stop my sister?  Octavia has always been a…headstrong girl; she gets that from mother… _mother…_ I shake my head to clear it of the noxious word.  I sit back in my chair, steeping my hands under my chin.  Now, what to do.   An image of the white haired beauty pops irritatingly into my head, she smiles, laughs, and then-collapses, unconscious.  No, I can’t let that happen to her, not again.  And it’s only going to take so long, until she will force her troubled prince to go against his and my sister engagement.  She will, inevitably, choose love over common sense, like they always do, she won’t get the drug, and she will die.  I can’t let that happen.  I won’t let that happen. 

I glance down to the paper in front of me, sighing and forcing my thoughts of Elsa to the side as I read.  My eyebrows rise.  It’s a guard report; three whores were murdered in the city last night.  Brutally tortured, they’re bodies had been mutilated, words carved into the skin.  I freeze when I see exactly what that word is.

 

                                                                              


	11. chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shameless bit of totally unrelated self promotion, but the reason my fanfics take so long to be updated is that I am a avid cosplayer; so if you could throw me a like here: https://www.facebook.com/AvaLancheCosplayCreations?ref=hl then I would greatly appreciate it!

**smut warnings darling!…we haven’t had a helsa smut since chapter 5 ( D: it kills me seriously) But believe me, I’m making up for it now…possibly the most intense sex scene I’ve written.  That’s a warning.**

**Hans**

I sigh, glancing at the woman next to me, golden hair spilling about her fair shoulders, her back turned from me, thank god.  At least I don’t actually have to look at her.  By her heaving breathing, I can tell she is asleep, I pick up my shirt from the sheets and slip it on over my head, putting my pants on again.  I delicately slip out of the bed and pad out of the room, not bothering with boots.  I gently open the door and close it again, breathing a sigh of relief as I leave the toxic atmosphere of gilded cage and walk down the hallway.  It must be the middle of the night, about one or two in the morning.  I can’t sleep, and there is only one cure for that.  I stop outside the room me and Elsa shared before Octavia had dragged me to hers, hesitating.  She is probably asleep, I shouldn’t wake her… The memory of her annoyed gaze last time I woke her fills my mind, putting a grin on my face.

What am I talking about, of course I should.

I push open the door, and stare into the dim room.  It is not, however, pitch black.  Elsa has thrown open the curtains, allowing moonlight to flood in, I glance into the red canopied bed, she is hidden from my sight by the gossamer canopy which stretches from the ceiling.  I can only see a vague outline of her lying down, like a princess in a fairy-tale. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I jump in surprise as the ‘fairy-tale princess’ snaps; apparently not asleep after all, and apparently, pissed off.  I laugh, delighted.

“I thought I would pay you a visit Ms. Sleeping Beauty.  I can leave if you want?” I ask smugly, even though I have no intention of leaving.  She sighs exaggeratedly.

“it would be a shame for you to leave now.” She mutters, I can see her silhouette stretch her arms over her head in a feline movement, her back arching. 

“how kind of you.” I say dryly, padding towards her bed, drawing back the curtains with a smirk, staring down at her as she slowly opens her eyes, back to their unreadable ice blue. 

“Morning-or should that be good night?” I muse aloud, my eyes sweeping her still form, it registers with some surprise that she is wearing a smouldering red shirt which comes up to mid-thigh, it hangs loosely on her small frame.  _Adrian._ I feel myself scowl.  

“What on earth are you wearing?” I ask sweetly, not bothering to hide the venom behind my words.  She shrugs, sitting up as she draws her knees up, wrapping her arms around them. 

“I didn’t want to wear that dress anymore.  It reminds me of what I did.” She rests her cheek on her knees.  I sit down next to her.

“You mean when you killed my brothers?” she nods, shifting her gaze to me. 

“Elsa, they had imprisoned you and let their brother mutilate you.  They would have raped you given half the chance.  What you did was no crime.  Believe me, I’ve committed enough of them to know.” I say firmly.  She looks back at me, her blue eyes damnably guarded.

“I know.  I just…want to forget that ever happened.”  I give a small chuckle.

“Fair enough.” We sit in comfortable silence, the dim light around us soothing.  Elsa studies me calmly with those strange, half lidded eyes.

“You don’t have to do what you’re doing for me you know.” Her words surprise me.  I stare at the door, resting my hands behind me, leaning back.

“I know.”

“So why are you?” Our conversation is oddly unfettered, uncomplicated.  It alarms me.  I lay back onto the soft bed. 

“not sure.” It’s the truth.  By all accounts, it doesn’t make sense.  I should hate her, despise her, try and murder her.  Not _save her life_.

“well, Thank you.”  She says softly, I turn my head to look at her, watching as she turns around and lies on her stomach, propped up by her elbows. 

“You’re welcome I guess.” I chuckle, enjoying the peace after Octavia’s excessive giggling.

“so.  What can I do for you in return?” she asks teasingly, a spark of flirtatiousness in her gaze.  I laugh.

“Kill my betrothed?” she gives me a wry smile.

“alas, as much as I would love to…” she pauses, clearly debating about telling me something.  “the antidote seems to have put me in limbo.  I have no ice, or fire.  I don’t have magic.”  My eyes widen, even though I’m not that surprised.  It makes sense.  What I am surprised, and pleased with, is that she trusts me enough to tell me this.  I give a theatrical sigh.

“After the wedding then?” I ask, she giggles, not a high pitched irritating sound like my fiancées, but a low throaty chuckle.

“sounds like a plan.”  Silence falls on us again, but it isn’t uncomfortable.

“You didn’t have to sleep with her.” She says cattily.  I raise an eyebrow, propping myself up on my elbow, staring at her.  A smirk appears on my mouth.

“You’re jealous!” I laugh, delighted.  She huffs.

“we have had this discussion before Charming, and my answer is still the same.  I’m not jealous.” Her irritated tone makes my smug grin grow, I reach out with my hand and lightly trail my fingers along her cheek in a mocking lovers gesture.

“sure you’re not Your Majesty.” My voice is sweet as sugar.   She groans in annoyance before snatching her face away from my touch.  

“You really are the smuggest man I have ever met.  Question is,” she muses aloud, “what on earth do I do now?” I tilt my head to look at her as she stares up at the ceiling.  I frown.

“What do you mean?” she turns her face to mine, her blue eyes blinking back at me.

“Well, the wedding’s going to be soon, right?” I sigh, Octavia had rather excitedly informed me that it would be in two weeks exactly.

“two weeks from today.  Octavia is rather eager.” My voice is dry. 

“What am I supposed to do for two goddamned weeks?!  I have to stay here for the wedding, so I can get the antidote, but I have to go back to Arendelle!  I have so much work to do!  Besides, Anna will be coming back soon and she’ll wonder where I am-” I cut her off mid panic.

“Elsa, calm down.  One step at a time.  Your ministers ran your kingdom for three years without you-yes, I know they did a pathetic job, but for two weeks, they’ll do.  Anna won’t be back for another month at least, and you know it.” My calm list seems to make her relax.

“You’re right.” She concedes, regret evident in her voice.

“sorry, what was that?  I didn’t quite hear you.  Speak up?” I say teasingly, she glares at me. 

“You’re lucky I don’t have my magic.”                                                         

“Oh, I know.   Don’t worry Your Majesty; I’m going to enjoy it.” She raises herself up onto her elbow, arching an eyebrow.  I sit up. 

“Oh?  what are you suggesting?”

“Only that we both need to find some way to pass these two weeks.” I swiftly grab her waist, and deposit her on my lap, her arm around my neck, her pale legs off to the side.  She glares at me, smoothing down her wavy white tresses.

“You cannot be serious.” she eyes me haughtily.  I lightly run an ungloved hand over the inside of her pale legs, free thanks to the short shirt.  Her breath hitches satisfyingly as I draw circles over her skin, tantalizingly close to the apex of her thighs.  Somehow, it appeals to a dark part of me to be doing this to her whilst she is clad in Adrian’s shirt-wait.  How did she get the shirt in the first place?  A dark cloud of utterly unreasonable jealousy rises in me. 

“Tell me Your Majesty,” I pause to slip my hand up the loose garment, running my hand up her leg, then stomach, lightly brushing over the bottom of her breasts.  “How did you manage to get Adrian’s shirt?” my voice is slightly rougher than usual, I arrogantly move her legs further apart with my other hand.  She tosses her head irritably.

“Honestly Hans!  If you must know, I stole it from his room!  And do you really think you have the right to start getting jealous?  I’m not the one whose engaged.” She hisses.  I know she’s right; I sigh, stilling my hands before I withdraw them from her.  I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her close to me before I rest my head on her shoulder, shutting my eyes.

“Your right.  I’m sorry.  About this; **_all_** of this.  If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even be here.” The words tumble out of me; I can’t hold them back. 

“Charming, if it wasn’t for you, I would still be an fearful girl shut in a room afraid of herself.  In a strange way, I guess I should almost thank you for what happened at my coronation.” My head snaps up, my eyes widening at the omission.  This is most certainly a different tune from her usual ‘you tried to kill me and take my kingdom.’ 

“Elsa, does the antidote affect your brain?” she laughs, a sound high and clear like a pealing bell.

“Not to my knowledge, although logic states there must be something wrong with me to even be here.” She shrugs, tossing me a teasing smile.  I growl, taking her waist and tossing her on the bed.  she starts with surprise before I imprison her with my body, placing my knees by hers, my hands either side of her neck. 

“Elsa, there is nothing wrong with you.  And if you ever, **_ever,_** say there is, I swear to god I’ll try and take your kingdom again.” She smiles at me; she looks ethereal, strange and beautiful in the dim light.

“Ah, we wouldn’t want that now would we?” Her white hair falls about the pillow like a halo.  Her angelic features hide what I know to be a devilishly sharp and able mind.

“so, what do we do?  I can imagine Octavia won’t be letting you out of her sight?” her bright voice contains a hint of sadness. 

“No, she won’t.  However, she’ll let me out if she can’t see me.  What do you think about a few late night rendezvous?” I say suggestively.  Elsa chuckles.

“Still up to your sly tricks are we?” I widen my eyes in mock surprise.

“But of course you’re Majesty!” She gives a small huff of irritation.

“For the love of god Charming, I think we’re on first name terms now.” She rolls her eyes, exasperated.  I arch an eyebrow.

“did that just happen?  Can I have that in writing?” I tease her, she reaches up and lazily hits my torso.

“You really are the most insufferable man I’ve ever met.” She smiles.  I answer back with one of my own.

“Thank you.” I say sweetly.   She gives a small chuckle, and I roll off her back onto the bed.  I feel a sudden urge to tell her something. 

 “Remember when I nearly sent a chandelier crashing onto your head?” I can feel her surprised look.

“how could I forget?”

“That wasn’t meant to kill you.” She gives a surprised chuckle at my confession.

“Oh?  And what was it meant to do?” she says teasingly.  I turn my head to hers, a smirk on my lips.

“Exactly what it did.  Knock you out, saving your life in the process.  Your welcome.” I turn my face, a smug smile on my lips.  She groans.

“So kind of you.” She says sarcastically. 

“What can I say; I’m a saint.” I say, my voice the epitome of calm piousness.

“Of what?  Irritating women?” she snorts.

“no, just  of irritating you.” I chuckle.  Elsa huffs, annoyed, but doesn’t say anything.  Easy silence falls again. 

“I give you two weeks after the wedding.” She says unexpectedly.  I frown, mystified.

“till what?” I ask.  She laughs.

“Until your driven insane.” I snort.

“I give myself a day.”  I mutter.  Elsa makes a small noise of agreement.  I sigh.

“ **This** is insane.” I groan, and it’s the truth.  The very fact that I’m with Elsa, alone in a bedroom, neither of us trying to kill the other is mental in itself. 

“Careful Charming.  You’re starting to sound like me.”

“Oh dear lord no.” I say in mock horror.  Elsa deftly hits my face with a pillow, making me splutter in surprise.  I glance up at her, smirking.

“That’s not very queenly behaviour Elsa.”  I reprimand her playfully; she gives me a smirk of her own.

“If I was going to behave like a queen, do you really think I’d let you into my room?” she says pointedly. 

“True.” 

**Elsa, later.**

I place my hand over my eyes, covering them from the sunlight which is streaming in from the large windows.  I groan, acknowledging the need to drag myself out of bed.  I always was a person who morning should approach in small degrees, rather than pounced on rudely like this.  I stretch out my arms, blinking.  I realise that my left arm has hit the pillow beside me, not a certain red headed prince; I glance to my left and see I’m alone in the bed.  I sit up groggily, rubbing my eyes.  Hans must have gone back to Octavia…of course.  I see a small glass with the antidote on the bedside table, a small piece of paper underneath it.

_“Good morning Elsa, I had to leave due to my…delightful fiancée.  I managed to slip in again to give you the cure, you’re welcome.  I’ll see you again tonight.  –Hans”_

I roll my eyes at the letter which simply drips with his usual arrogance before I quickly skull the liquid, and feel the familiar icy bloom in my chest.  I leap out of bed, only to remember the red shirt I had taken from Adrian is the only article of clothing I have in Elmira.  I finger the short hem, thinking.  I can’t go out in **_this_!**   I am saved from my predicament by a knock on the door.

“Yes?” I call, turning around.

“It’s only me.” I recognise the voice of Adrian, I sigh before running a hand through my rumpled my white hair, glancing ruefully down at the shirt, before shrugging.

“Come in.” he opens the door, a pile red fabric in his hands.  His eyes sweep up my underclothed form, an amused smile on his face as he recognises the shirt.

“You could have asked for a night gown.” He says pointedly, but his eyes show he isn’t annoyed I stole a shirt.  I cross my arms over my chest.

“Yes, but it wouldn’t have been as much fun!” I tease, he chuckles before stepping into the room, the light reflecting off his golden head.  He lays the stack of red fabric on the equally crimson bed.  I recognise it to be a dress, undergarments and various items of clothing, although that’s stretching the definition.  I walk over to stand next to him, staring at the slashed fabric.  He sighs.

“I know it’s not much-” I cut him off tartly.

“Literally.”

“I’ll admit, Octavia does rather have a…individual taste in clothes.  She doesn’t know I took it, she won’t miss it, but don’t let her catch you in it” He warns.  I give a dry chuckle.

“Don’t worry; I have no intention of seeing her, at least, not if I can help it.” He laughs; I pick up the clothes and walk to the small screen in the corner of the room.  I can practically feel Adrian’s endearing uncomfortableness. 

“I can leave if it would make you feel more comfortable…” he stutters.  I chuckle, unbuttoning the shirt and throwing it over the top of the wooden edged silk screen. 

“Make me more comfortable?  Or you?” I can’t resist teasing him.  He gives a nervous chuckle as I slip on the naturally red undergarments, although that’s stretching the definition. They scream Octavia.  I freeze when I see the still unfamiliar scar underneath my breast.  _Mine…_ the memory of a mocking laugh, empty eyes and a knife come back to me, I shake myself, tearing my gaze away from it, but not before something odd nags at my mind.  Even though I had only gotten the sound two days ago, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say the scar was…fading.  I force the ridiculous thought from my mind as a I slip a flimsy white chemise over my head which comes up to my upper thigh before holding the dress up to my form, sighing as I tug it over my head. 

“touché.” He mutters, I laugh in response.  The dress leaves very little to the imagination, although I suppose by Octavia’s standards, it’s modest.   The dress has her usual two large slashes up the sides, the skirt swirls around my legs, fitting snugly over my hips and hugging my curvy form.  Thankfully, it’s long sleeved, although that doesn’t stop a large amount of cleavage from being shown thanks to the low sweetheart neckline, held together by a corset front.  I quickly tie the lacings in a bow, I sigh before leaving the safety of the screen, plucking Adrian’s shirt from the top of it in the process.  His eyes widen when he sees me, although to his credit, his gaze isn’t glued to the swell of my breasts, managing to stay on my face after swiftly looking me up and down, his eyes darken inexplicably, so different to the usual amused innocence inside them.  I had seen that look before, on men like Hans, Dominic, Eon.  Not on Adrian.  It makes me distinctly uncomfortable, I hold out his shirt to him, he snaps out of whatever it was that was making him stare at me with that dark gaze and shakes himself. 

“Keep it.” He says firmly.  I shrug, tossing it on the bed behind him.

“thanks for the clothes.” I say hesitatingly, wondering if I really should be thanking him for them after all.  He smiles at me distractedly.

“You’re very welcome.” 

“I was wondering if I might borrow some paper, quills and ink, I have to send some letters to Arendelle telling them where I am.” I break the quiet.  Adrian gives a delicate snort.

“I think we can do better than that.” He says haughtily, the familiar mischievous twinkle in his eye which makes me release the breath I had unconsciously been holding.  He walks towards the door, beckoning for me to follow him.  I obediently trot after him, my thoughts turning towards home.  First, one to Johann, the minister Hans hates asking for all important proclamations to be sent to the citadel of Elmira.  Next, one to Anna, asking her to stay a few more days in Corona.  The list grows on in my mind as I walk with Adrian through the castle.  He opens a door, and motions for me to go inside.  I’m inwardly gleeful; finally, I can forget the events of the last few days and find solace in my kingdom again.  The sooner I leave this godforsaken country, the better.  However, I still have two weeks left.  At least Octavia wants to rush things; I’m lucky really.  If she was sane, I would be here for at least another two months.  However, both thankfully and regretfully, I am rapidly coming to the conclusion sanity is something Octavia doesn’t have. 

_But now, to work._

**Hans**

Octavia squeals delightedly, fluttering from one part of what was going to be a lavish and utterly tasteless wedding to the other like some sort of scantily clad butterfly.  I cross my arms over my chest, leaning against a marble pillar as I grow more and more bored.  I never did like weddings.  Briefly, I wonder what time it is.  _Please say it’s close to nightfall._ A glance out the high windows of the large receiving room tells me that it’s at most one o clock.  _Damn it._ Inevitably, I wonder what Elsa is doing; it feels inexplicably odd to be away from her this much, after all, over the last week we had hardly left each other’s side out of necessity, and now we’re good as forbidden from seeing each other.  She’s probably off in a library somewhere, worrying about her kingdom or something like that.  Or with Adrian.  I feel myself scowl at the thought.  Even though I’ve been given no reason to think so, I can’t help but feel a slight bit of unease at the thought of the golden prince…by all means, he’s friendly enough, and yet-

I shake myself; I’m just letting jealousy get to me.  This possessiveness over Elsa has to stop; I’m getting married for Christ sake.  Although, when I turn my attention back to the all too giggly blonde, I fight the urge to find solace in memories of the calm, cold and sharp queen.  Instead I take a deep breath before walking towards her, frantically thinking of an excuse, any excuse to leave.  She swivels around, and I plaster a complacent smile on my face.

“Hans darling, what do you think of these flowers?” she breathes, golden eyes sparkling with excitement.  I vaguely glance at them.

“Yes, they’re lovely.” I say absentmindedly, hardly even looking at them.   She pouts.

“Darling, what is it?  You don’t look so good.” She says flippantly, ending on a giggle.  I smile wryly.  ‘ _You wouldn’t notice if I was dying.  You’re only saying that because I’m not falling at your feet like everybody else.’_

“I’m not feeling too good either.  Would it be alright if I went back to your room for some sleep?” I ask sickeningly sweetly, preying this works.  A flicker of petulant annoyance crosses Octavia’s features and I know instantly; I’m not going anywhere. 

“I don’t think so darling.” She says, narrowing her eyes.  I inwardly sigh.  It’s going to be a long day.  I retreat back to my marble column and watch, finding solace in thoughts of killing the spoilt blonde in several colourful, exciting ways, a few of them involving help from Elsa.  _Elsa…_ right.  That’s why I’m doing this.  For the snow queen who shoved an icicle in my throat; and before that, nearly killed me with her Snow Beast.  ‘ _This is insane.This is probably what Elsa felt like when she came with me to take the Southern Isles’…_ Elsa helped me, or tried to at least, and was tortured in the process.  I feel my eyes harden and my thoughts turn dark when I remember the carved words under her heart.  _Mine._ I have to do this for her; after **_that,_** it’s highly doubtful I could refuse her anything.

 ‘ _However’,_ my darker half (much bigger than the honourable part of me) whispers enticingly, _there’s no reason as to why you shouldn’t take full advantage of Elsa’s debt to you.’_ I feel myself getting aroused at the thought, and although I try to quell it, it only grows, until it’s fully consumed the tiny speck of an all-to-easily-ignored-conscience.  I am unable to prevent the dark smirk which crosses my lips as I fold my arms over my chest.

Well, my rendezvous with the snow queen tonight will certainly be…invigorating. 

**Elsa**

I sigh before placing the quill down; blowing lightly over the neat words, drying the wet ink before I place the last letter down.   I stretch, flexing my hand, which had grown used to so little writing.  _I have to train myself again_.   I hear a chuckle from Adrian, I turn my head and raise an eyebrow at him.

“I have to hand it to you; you certainly can write letters.” He says dryly.  I smile, glancing at the small stack of paper. 

“Lots of practise.”  I murmur before standing, brushing down the folds of the flowing skirt distractedly.

“I do sympathise.”  He chuckles.  I vaguely remember he is, of course, the prince regent in his fathers…absence.  I can’t help my curiosity when it comes to the sleeping king, I wonder where he is being kept in the castle.  Naturally, I would never be so insensitive as to ask.  

“What time is it?” I ask flippantly, running a hand through the front of my hair, which I had managed to wrangle into a hasty arrangement on top of my head, white tendrils escaping the loose knot.

“about four.  We’ve still got time.” he muses aloud.  I frown, confused.

“time?  For what?” I ask, puzzled.  He shoots me his typically friendly smile, mischief in his eyes.

“For fun silly!” he laughs, quickly taking my hands and tugging me gently to the door for the second time in two days.  I can’t hold back a small giggle, feeling like a little girl again as I am pulled out of the large study and into the corridor. 

“wait wait, where are we going!” I laugh, softly tugging my hand out of his warm grip.  He halts, smiling.

“Out.” I roll my eyes playfully before he beckons, once more walking down the hallway at his fast pace; I almost have to trot to keep up despite my long strides.  He notices and slows down fractionally, he sweeps some fabric from a table, clear, once more walking down the hallway at his fast pace; I almost have to trot to keep up despite my long strides.  He notices and slows down fractionally, he sweeps some fabric from a table, clearly placed there for this.  He hands me one of the two bundles of cloth, I unfurl it and see it to be a cloak.  Mystified, I wrap it around my shoulders, placing the hood over my distinctive white hair.  I notice Adrian do the same.  I glance at him, raising an enquiring eyebrow.

“I’d rather we weren’t recognised.” He explains, opening a door and beckoning me inside it.  It’s a small stairwell, a series of steps leading downwards.  Adrian motions for me to go down the narrow staircase, our footsteps clattering on the iron.  At the bottom, there is a small door, unassuming and plain.  He winks at me before opening it.  I feel my mouth drop slightly in a highly uncharacteristic display of surprise. 

The door opens onto a sprawling park which must be on the south side of the castle; the opposite side to the citadel facing section.  Couples walk the pathways, willow trees lightly brush the ground and the soothing sound of running water fills the warm air, heavy with the drone of bees. 

“It’s beautiful!” I breathe, staring into the calm space.  None of the people sitting on the grass in the shade of the castle seem to notice the two figures standing in the small doorway, some of the absorbed in reading, some people sleeping, laughing or talking.  I vaguely see a small lake through a line of trees, the limestone path winding around it.

“I know.” He chuckles, placing a hesitant hand on my lower back and pushing me forward, he closes the door.  My eyes drink it all in. 

“what even is this?” I ask as we start to walk down the winding pathway slowly.  I glance up at him, noting the look of pleasure on his face.

“This Elsa, is the city green.” He chuckles.

“it’s beautiful!” I repeat, glancing around.

“It is rather.  My grandfather built them as private castle grounds, but one of the few things my father did was open them to everyone.”  I glance up, curious at his slightly sharp tone when he mentions his father.

“the few things?” I ask, puzzled.  Adrian recovers himself, smiling down at me gently.

“My father was not…not a very active ruler.” He says slowly.  His words only increase my curiosity about the king; I resolve to find out more about the mysterious monarch.

“oh?”  He shakes his head, tossing me an easy smile.

“another time perhaps.” He promises.  _I seriously doubt that._ I turn my gaze back to the park, examining the people.  It would see my dress isn’t all that out of place after all; the warmer climate of Elmira allows women to show much more skin; slashed skirts and midriffs are common sights.  They all look like brightly coloured exotic butterflies.

“So the cloaks?” I say, breaking the quiet.  He shrugs.

“everyone here knows what I look like.  I like going out and being unnoticed.” He explains.  I’m surprised at this casual omission.

“What royal doesn’t wish for anonymity?” I say softly.  He gives a sad chuckle.

“Octavia.” He says dryly.  I laugh.

“True.  May I ask you something?” I ask hesitantly, glancing up at him.  He shrugs.

“Sure.”  I realise we have stopped at the lake, I stare out onto the reflective surface.

“What was your childhood like?” I murmur.  This could explain how we is so different to his sister… I can feel him glance at me with surprise. 

“An odd question.” He mutters.  I look up at him, to see him staring out at the body of water, searching for words.  “Lonely I suppose.” His answer leaves me more curious than ever.

“I know the feeling.” I murmur, reminded of my own upbringing inside a small room, a scared little girl. 

**_“We will limit her contact with people and keep her powers hidden from everyone... including Anna.”_ **

My father’s voice echo’s through my mind, I shake my head to rid it of the pain, the fear of those years.  I become aware of a hand on my shoulder; I glance up into Adrian’s concerned face.

“Elsa, are you alright?” he asks worriedly.  I give him a shaky smile, still reeling from the force of those dark memories.

“I’m fine.” I say quickly, gesturing dismissively as though to bat his concern away.  He doesn’t look convinced, but his hand drops from my shoulder.   We both stare onto the water, the quiet peaceful, punctuated only by the sound of distant laughter and trickling water. 

“I hope you can pay for the wedding.” I mutter, a twist of dark humour to my voice.  He laughs quietly.

“We shouldn’t have a problem with that.   If you hadn’t noticed, our coffers are brimming.” He chuckles.  I had indeed noticed; and despite my own kingdoms wealth, it’s nothing compared to that of Elmira; a country with few resources.  

“Why is that?” I ask curiously. 

“My father conducted a remarkably successful…business deal.” he says easily, his golden eyes oddly unreadable.  I frown slightly at this before I force my features into impassivity.  I roll my eyes, annoyed.  However, my resolve deepens to find out more about this mysterious family; more closed off then my own if that’s even possible.  I watch a swan delicately splash into the water, its neck bowing gracefully.

“How disgustingly romantic.” I observe.  Adrian chuckles beside me.

“So it is.”

I turn to face him, smiling.

“Thanks for this.  For all of this.” I say softly.  He smiles down at me gently.

“I was hardly going to throw you out of my kingdom to die!” he says with mock horror, taking my elbow and steering me back towards the castle, the last rays of late afternoon sunshine shining over the high turrets. 

“I should hope not.” I laugh.   Adrian stops me, his hand softly grasps the long sleeve covering my forearm.  I halt, looking at him enquiringly.  He bites his lip, clearly wondering if he should tell me something. 

“What is it?” I ask, concerned.  He stares at the ground, shutting his eyes resignedly before bringing them up to meet mine. 

“Elsa, something’s happening…something bad…” he hesitates.  I frown, worried now.

“tell me.” I say, sharper then I intended.  Infuriatingly, Adrian seems to change his mind, smiling at me again.

“Don’t worry, it’s not that important after all. It can wait.” He says kindly.  Too bad I’m tired of kindness.  I huff with annoyance before wrenching my arm out of his grasp, turning around and storming down the path.  I’m beyond sick of things being kept from me. 

_“You should have told her.”_

A woman’s voice speaks in my mind, mocking and familiar as I watch Elsa stride down the path like a hurricane in heels, red fabric flickering underneath her black cloak like tongues of flame. 

“I did the right thing.” I mentally argue.  

_“No, you didn’t.  When do you ever do the right thing Adrian?”_

“Unlike you, I always do.” I inwardly snap. 

_“You’re such a liar.  Why didn’t you tell Elsa about the murders like you were going to?”_

“I’m just keeping her safe!”

 _“No, you’re not.  You don’t want to tell her because you’re afraid she would leave.  Always this obsession with being alone.  Such a foolish boy.”_  The poisonous voice echoes through my mind.  Even though I don’t need to defend myself, not to a voice in my head, I do anyway.  Because it’s **her.**

“I’m not afraid of her leaving.  She will anyway, I just don’t want to worry her.” I say firmly.  She laughs, and, if I didn’t know any better, the temperature drops, the usually balmy weather uncharacteristically cold.

“ _Oh dear.  You do like her don’t you?  Surely then Adrian, she wouldn’t care if you told her exactly how Elmira came to be so rich?”_ her taunting words cause me to squeeze my eyes shut, concentrating on shutting her out.

“Leave me alone.”

 _“Adrian, you must stop this; you have the power to.  Just go and talk to your darling  sister; you can’t force Elsa and her love apart like this.  You know it’s not right; else I wouldn’t be talking now.  You know, it’s really unsurprising her and Hans have feelings for each other.  After all, Who would love **you**?”_ she laughs,the familiar words in my head bring back the all too familiar darkness, the lust, the black thoughts, feelings…No.  I take deep breaths, and slowly open my eyes, calm again.  I feel her slip away with the darkness as I regain control of myself.  However, I can’t help the smug words which I say aloud.

“Until the next time **_mother_**.”

  **Hans.**

I give a sigh of relief; finally, I’m free.  Thankfully, Octavia seems far too wrapped up in wedding plans to worry about me slipping out of her room late at night.  She didn’t even make me bed her.  I silently stalk the corridors like a shadow, moonlight flicking the ground.  I gather it to be about eleven o clock; late enough for the castle to be asleep, only the odd servant punctuates the hall.  I walk past Adrian’s room, next to Octavia’s and notice the light underneath his door with surprise.  _Maybe not the whole castle after all.  Interesting._ Thankfully, Elsa’s quarters are nice and far away from the royal couple’s rooms.  I feel my all too eager libido come back to life; it’s far too easy to ignore my conscience.  _She is in my debt after all…_ I reassure myself firmly. I come to Elsa’s door, I don’t bother to knock and quietly slip inside the room.  Unlike last night, she has left a candle burning, clearly expecting me.  It’s placed on her bedside table; it bathes her in a soft golden light.  She hasn’t seemed to have noticed my coming in, her gaze absorbed by something in her lap as she sits with crossed legs, her elbows on her knees and knuckles underneath her chin.  I realise that she’s reading, her attention entirely focused on the book.  I smile, a gesture terrifyingly genuine.  I chuckle, she starts before glancing up, narrowing her eyes.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack.” She snaps, sliding off the bed and standing up.  A smirk plays on my lips as I take in her dress, clearly one of Octavia’s.  A hint of white thigh peeks out from one of the two high slashes along the sides of the loose skirt, her breasts almost spilling out of the bodice.  I chuckle again, eyeing her appreciatively.  I’m about to comment on it, when she cuts me off.

“Don’t say anything.” She hisses.  I give her an amused smirk.

“I didn’t say a word.” I chuckle, openly gazing at her chest. 

“You were going to.” 

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look more naked.” I laugh, enjoying the dress and how blatantly uncomfortable It makes her. 

“I’m going to kill you.”

“I’ll die a happy man.  You know, you really should ask Octavia the name of her tailor.”

“I’m going to kill you **_slowly_**.”

“you always say just the right things.” I say, mock romantically.  She rolls her eyes before pausing.

 “You wouldn’t happen to know where Elmira got all this money from?  A large harvest perhaps?” she asks.  I feel my eyebrows rise at the odd question, surprised.

“I would have no idea.  Ask Adrian.” I say dismissively, unable to stop myself from running my eyes up her curvy form, so well defined in that dress that’s bodice is close to skin tight.  She sighs.

“I did.  He was as mystifying as ever.” I smirk, bemused as I walk over to her with my predatory stride, stopping when I’m a hand-span away from her.  She glares up at me with those entrancing blue eyes. 

“I do love it when you’re irritated.” I murmur, smirking down at her.  She omits a low growl from her throat, every bit as predatory as me.  For what are we, but two predators in a world full of prey?  I give a wry smile at the poetic thought before I reach down and absentmindedly take out a pin in her white hair, gathered in a loose knot on top of her head.  I spare a thought for the rigidly perfect bun she had been wearing when I first saw her on top of a dais, a crown on her head, an orb and a sceptre in her hand.  At the time, I was so focused on the crown and the sceptre that I had hardly noticed the wearers beauty, but when I was dragged to her by a red headed princess, I most certainly picked up on it.  I shake myself out of the past and stare down at the same woman, glowering at me as I run my fingers across the resulting white tendril.

“I seem to recall you saying yesterday that you were in my debt.” I say casually, inspecting the platinum lock of hair before looking back at her face.  She glares, but I can see the small sparkle of desire in the azure depths of her eyes.  _I really am glad her eyes are back.  The silver was so unnerving.  Then again, her normal eyes are as well._

“What about it?” she asks cautiously as I select another pin from her hair and allow another careless tendril to fall down onto her red clad shoulders.  My eyes meet hers, a smirk curves my lips.

“I think I should start to collect, don’t you?” I chuckle.  I watch her reaction carefully, her expression doesn’t change, but I notice her small shiver at my words. 

“What are you suggesting?”  she asks flippantly, raising an imperious eyebrow.  I tug out another pin. 

“I think you know what I’m suggesting Elsa.” I say dryly, slipping my hand from her hair and down to her plump cheek.  I can’t resist flicking my thumb across her full pink lips.  Her eyes darken with lust slightly.

“Spell it out for me.” She says teasingly.  I give an exaggerated sigh. 

“For one night, My Queen, you let me do whatever I wish to you.   Take you, possess you.  Is that blunt enough?” I say casually, watching her reaction.  Almost disappointingly, she doesn’t push me away with outraged innocence; she merely raises an eyebrow, amused.

“I would have thought you’d be more creative .” She says dryly.  I give a low chuckle.

“Oh Elsa.  You have no idea.” I flick my thumb over her slightly parted lips again, and then suddenly, with no recollection of how exactly it happened, I find my lips on hers.  My tongue plunders her mouth, my hands fist in her white hair, and then, all of a sudden…I can’t. 




All I can feel, taste, is her.  I hold her face steady and ravage her mouth, I remember vaguely that I’m meant to make her repay my debt somehow, and I know exactly how too.    I swiftly consult my fantasies, swiftly rejecting this one, that. Those I can’t envision her in.  Can’t imagine placing her in.   

But…Yes, _that_ one.  I immediately know it will work, she will enjoy being taken, possessed, like that.   And I do want her to enjoy this.  The thought makes my lips curve against hers before I free my mouth, looking down at her face for a brief instant before I grab her hand and tow her, dragging her, across the room.  After one shocked gasp, she catches up her skirts and keeps up easily enough.  Reaching the middle of the room, I yank her to me, raising my arm over her head and twirling her, twirling her, bringing her to an abrupt halt before the mirror in the corner.  She huffs, her blue eyes glittering and face slightly flushed.  I slip back and pick the candle up from the bedside table and place It on the tallboy by the mirror, light washing over her, enough for us both to see her wide eyes and alabaster skin. 

**Elsa**

“This is a performance.” He begins, closing his hands about my shoulders, he bends his head and presses a hot, open mouthed kiss to the point where my exposed nape meets my shoulder.  Head still lowered, he lifts his gaze to the mirror, trapping my eyes.  “An erotic performance, and you’ll be the one who’ll perform.” His words, said in his calm low voice, make me draw in a huge breath, breasts swelling beneath the ridiculous dress.  I force my wits back into my mind, open my mouth to make a tart comment, when he lays a finger across them. 

“First rule of the evening, and I know how this will pain you dear-No talking from you.  I will give orders, and you will obey.  Other than that, you may moan, or sob, or even scream-and believe me, you will-but at no point will any word pass those lovely lips of yours.  Not even my name.”  His obvious enjoyment in his command irritates me, but I merely glare at him.  “Do you understand?” he asks softly. 

I open my mouth, see his rising brow, close my lips and nod.  He smirks.  _He is enjoying this way too much._ Although, from the heat coursing through my veins, I know I’m enjoying this to.  _Damned man._  He pulls more pins from my hair, I expect him to take all of them out, freeing my hair, but no.  One lock here, one there.  I stand and watch him in the mirror; I can only see what he is doing, where his pale hands are heading, the rest of the room dim and featureless.   I find myself wishing I had thought to ask for a candelabra rather than just a single candle when I feel him loose interest in my hair, and feel the shift in his gaze towards my breasts, feel the heat on them, I feel them tightening, peaking. 

His gaze meets mine, a delicious smirk curving his lips. 

“Undo your bodice.”

_This is a performance, an erotic performance, and you are the one who’ll perform._

I finally understand.  Even as my hands rise to do his bidding, I wonder what the purpose of this is.  I swiftly undo the lacing on the front of the red dress, taking the red cord out one loop at a time.  His gaze follows my fingers as they work steadily lower until I reach the end of the bodice, the two half’s hanging slightly apart.  I can feel the heat of him down my back, sense the solidarity, the strength, the masculine power, all held in check mere inches behind me.  Primed, but utterly controlled.  I wouldn’t mind breaking that control, splintering it, fracturing it, but glancing up to the intense gaze of Hans, I decide it can wait till another night. 

“Slide the dress of your shoulders, free your arms and hands, and let it drop to the floor.” His voice lowers an octave, making my stomach tighten.  For once, I do as I’m told; the red dress falls to the floor in a puddle.  I suddenly realise why he left most of my hair up.  My hair is thick, and reaches nearly to my waist; it would act as a screen.

Merely having me naked clearly isn’t his aim.

We both stare at my slim form, standing in a pool of red, covered by the flimsy chemise that comes only to my upper thighs. 

“Now, let’s see.” He drawls, another odd shiver beckons.  My breasts are already achy, even though he hasn’t touched them, not even brushed him.  If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that was planned.  I’m distractedly by another smug order.

“Open the buttons.” He murmurs against my neck.  The chemise has a placket closed by a small row of buttons that reaches to my navel, that I would otherwise never bother undoing.  One by one, I slip them free.  The placket gapes as my hands descend, revealing the creamy whiteness of my skin.  By the time I reach the end of the line, my nerves have tightened, expectation gripping. 

“Draw the sides apart and show me.  I’m your audience, display yourself for me.” He whispers in my ear.  Curling my fingers in the fine material, I boldly, brazenly, draw the two sides apart.  My breasts are still covered by a bra, but calling it that’s rather stretching the definition.  A confection of red lace, it doesn’t do much to hide any flesh at all.  I can feel his hot gaze moving over my exposed skin. 

“Keep your eyes on your body, not on me.” He reminds me.  I grudgingly obey, shifting my gaze from his smirking face to my figure in the mirror.  I vaguely notice how unabashed I look; practically baring my breasts to his gaze, the scrap of lace which is apparently a bra no barrier. 

“let the chemise fall.” I do as he says, the fine fabric dropping to join the red dress on the floor, already forgotten.  I stand in the mirror, covered only by the red undergarments, feeling oddly exposed even though he’s seen me naked multiple times.  I try not to look at the strangely faint scar underneath my breasts.

“Beautiful.” He whispers softly before lightly kissing my neck.  A strange frisson of awareness streaks through me.  He runs his hands down my back, finding the clasp to the bra and deftly undoing it.  It bows away from my body, Hans teasingly slips it off my shoulders, it falls off my arms which are by my sides and down onto the ground.  The peculiarity of seeing and feeling simultaneously is strangely arousing.  I see the light flush spread beneath my white skin, feeling the tell-tale warmth spread, see my nipples tighten as sensation heightens. 

_Bastard.  The clever, clever bastard._

“very good.”  A low murmur washes over my ear.  “keep watching.” He reminds me teasingly.  His hands come round me and lightly cup my breasts.  Too lightly at first, but within a minute his touch had changed-to one of flagrant possession.  He captures my nipples, rolls, then squeezes, my knees go weak.

“tsk tsk.  Remember all those posture lessons you would have had my Queen, stand up straight, don’t you dare slouch.” He whispers mockingly into my ear.  I fight the urge to ask what would happen if I didn’t, I swallow and comply.  His body is close behind me-mere inches away, given the heat bathing my back.  His strong arms reaching around me, a steely cage, yet only his hands, those damned hungry hands, are touching me. 

I want more, my body burns for me, yet for long minutes his hands remain on my breasts, kneading, explicitly claiming, spreading fire beneath my skin, I am unable to withhold a moan which he chuckles at with damnable smugness, careful to keep my eyes on the mirror.  In truth, it would have been hard to wrench my gaze away; a fascination I’d never imagined might exist keeps my eyes locked on my body. 

On his hands making free with it.

A shiver slithers down my spine.

I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from his hands, while one continues to play, firmly and possessively with my breasts, the other skates down, oddly avoiding the scar on my torso, to the waistband of my red undergarments.  I feel him glance up at my face, but I don’t meet his gaze.  He gives a low chuckle as he toys with the red lace edging on the underwear.

“You know Your Majesty, Octavia’s clothes really do suit you.” He laughs before he kisses my cheek; I flick my eyes up to his and glare at him, biting my lip against the tart rejoinder I suspect he is waiting for. 

_Damn him._

“Now.  Let’s see…” he murmurs, his lips trailing against my ear before he oh-so-slowly takes my undergarments and drags them down over my pale skin before they too drop to the ground. 

“Excellent.” His purr is almost guttural.  I feel the building heat inside of me escalate higher, the warmth radiating through me.  He angles his hand so I can watch as he presses one long finger inside me, I drag in a quick, too-shallow breath, holding it as the sensation of his touch, of each deliberate caress married with the vision in the mirror.  He reaches further, deeper, the combined stimulation rolls in wave after wave through me.  I bite my lip against another moan, seeing the flush of arousal deepen and spread like wildfire against my white skin.  His hands still work my flesh, my breasts, the slickness between my thighs.  My wits are so addled that I hardly hear his next gravelly command.

“Put your hands on mine.” His voice is so low, it’s almost incomprehensible. “One on each, close your palms over the backs of my hands and _feel_ what I’m doing to you.”

I obey-because I have to.  Because I can’t stand not to, not to know what might come.   

_How am I undone this easily?_

_I’m a goddamned queen for Christ’s sake._

My carefully maintained wall of ice between me and other people, the wall which I have been building since childhood, has been breached by this prince with naught more than an arrogant smirk and a few whispered words. 

As I place my hands over his, I’m not prepared for the instantaneous heightening of my senses.  Through his hands, their teasing movements, I know what will come before it happens.  Now I know, see, feel, anticipation added to the sensual tumult inside.  Gasping, panting, barely able to remain upright, I know I can’t take much more… 

I know he can make me shatter with just his fingers, he has, after all, done it before, but as I feel myself inexorably tightening, reaching the peak, the complete bastard draws back, draws both his hands from me.  I blink as I focus on my reflection in the mirror.  More of my hair has come undone, an avalanche over my flushed skin, my lips parted, even in the dim light, my eyes glitter azure blue.

_Is that me?_

I forget everything as I look at myself in the mirror, naked and on display, as the knowledge he’s doing the same washes over me.  A shiver I can’t hide racks over me.

“Are you cold?” Hans’s mocking voice murmurs, running his fingertips along my shoulders in an oddly possessive caress.  I open my mouth to answer, remember and shake my head instead.

“I didn’t think you would be.”  His voice is beyond smug.  Suddenly, before I can think, he grabs my waist, spinning me around to face him before lifting me and tossing me on the bed.  I land with my head almost on the pillows, grabbing my bearings as I become aware of him setting the pillows down either side of me.  I glance up, curious.  I watch as he strips off his shirt (he hadn’t bothered with his white jacket) but leaves his pants on.  I raise myself up on my elbows, eyeing him enquiringly.  _What is he doing?_ He reaches out, grabbing my calves and spreading my pale legs apart. 

I can’t breathe, I can’t move, much to my disgust I find myself nearly sobbing with need.  I watch as he looks down, his face a harsh mask of stark lust.  Releasing one leg, he reaches down and slowly trails one long finger through the sopping wetness.  His lips curve in his customary smirk.  He reaches for the pillows, scooping up my hips in one arm and stuffing the padding underneath me, raising my hips as he slides down to lie between my spread legs.

_Good god…_

His shoulders keep my legs forced wide before he brings his mouth down on me; I am unable to hold back a shriek.

I want, I need, I writhe on the bed, within a minute I need release. 

Yet no matter how much I moan and sob, how much I thrash and wordlessly plead, even when I blindly sink my hands into his hair and tug, he keeps pushing me tighter only to let me fall back down again, bringing me to the brink, and then halting.  Up and back, up and back until I think I may go mad, the flames of desire running through me with the wild beating of my heart. 

Finally, the bastard lets me go. 

I soar over the precipice, straight over the indefinable edge.  I thought I knew what he could do to me, but this time…I see stars.  This time I feel cataclysmic shock all the way to my soul.  By the time my senses, drowning in glory, have resurfaced enough to be aware, I realise he’s stripped out of his pants and undergarments.  My eyes are drawn to the slash marks along his abdomen, the swirling burn marks along his arm.  Naked, he kneels between my legs again, this time hooking his arms beneath my thighs so the back of my knees lay across his bent elbows, he closes his hands about my hips. 

And lifts me, drawing my hips up to him. 

He looks up, catching my gaze before smiling in that annoying, arrogant, damnably charming way that makes my breath hitch before thrusting powerfully in, hard and deep. 

Helpless to do otherwise, I watch as he holds my hips immobile, preventing me from rising up to meet his thrusts, as he relentlessly plunges deeper, harder, faster, hotter.  He leans down and rubs his lips against my breast, taking a nipple into his mouth and biting hard, I try to arch my back, but his grip keeps me immobile.

“You’re mine Elsa.  Don’t you dare forget that.” He growls possessively as he continues to pound into me, I can answer only with a guttural moan as the delicious friction builds, shattering.  I am first off the cliff; I come apart on a cry, but he continues to use me-use me, fill me, take me, possess me- until I shatter again; this time, he follows with me with a sharp gasp and a deafening moan. 

I feel myself slip off to slumber.                 

**Hans**

I stir, blinking in the dim light of the room.  The candle by the mirror has burnt itself out, I glance down to the woman beside me, breathing calmly in her sleep.  I gently slide my arm under her, lifting her up, pulling back the covers and placing her under them, I settle beside her.  I have a moment of not unaccustomed crystal clarity. In my previous encounters, with whores, women of the court, even the Princess of Elmira, this is the point I leave the ladies bed. 

I’m not leaving Elsa’s bed.

The determination behind the thought, the innate stubbornness, stands in direct contradiction to what any rational thought suggests the eventual outcome will be.  I’m engaged to the woman who holds the balance of Elsa’s life and death for Christ sake, I need to go back to her before I’m missed.

But still, I don’t move, staring down at the small figure beside me as I sit upright in the bed. 

At the moment, any notion that any future between us is doomed doesn’t matter.  The knowledge, the certainty, that remaining in her bed like this would inevitably lead to _more_ difficult emotions; let alone if Adrian or Octavia should find us here, suddenly doesn’t matter. 

The only thing that does matter is that I’m here, and Elsa, the snow queen, lies beside me, taken, possessed, and sated to her dainty toes. 

I can’t think beyond that, beyond the wonder I feel in her body, in _her._  In her laugh, her sarcasm, her smile… this is perilous, but I don’t care.  It’s with a sinking feeling that I realise something very, very dangerous, and very, very bad. 

I think I may be in love with her.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you guys REALLY liked that smut!!!!! An amazing artist on DeviantArt (Lisuli79, check her work out, she’s seriously fucking amazing; does the best Helsa art out) even created an artwork of the scene!  
>  No smut this chapter, but serious feels warnings guys. Serious feels.

 

Oh, whilst I’m here.  I think a small ‘key’ if you will is necessary.  Observe **:**

_Italics are the characters inner thoughts._

**_Bold italics are a character reminiscing on past quotes or moments._ **

 

**Elsa**

My eyelids flutter open before I yawn, stretching my arms above my head.  I feel oddly content and complacent, like a cat that got its cream.  As memories of last night flutter back to me, I realise why.  I don’t need to look beside me to know Hans is gone, but I glance anyway.  I’m surprised to see a small indentation in the bed where he had lain; apparently he didn’t leave after he got what he          wanted from me after all.  The thought leaves a smile on my lips.  I glance over in the corner of the room and see my borrowed clothes still pooled on the floor; I make a mental note to see a seamstress today and have some dresses made.  I simply refuse to wear Octavia’s dresses anymore.  I give a haughty snort at the thought of the blonde princess before slipping out of the bed, acknowledging the sunlight streaming in through the windows.  I turn my head at the sound of a knock on my door, I glance down at myself, remembering my nakedness before sighing, frantically scrabbling about in the bedclothes for Adrian’s shirt where I placed it yesterday.

“Just a minute.” I call, finding it and slipping it on my shoulders, buttoning it up.

“come in!” I run my hands through my tangled white tresses, sighing at my dishevelled appearance.  Adrian walks in, smiling tentatively, so different to Hans’s arrogant smirk. 

“Morning.  I hope I didn’t wake you?” he asks politely.  I shake my head firmly.

“No No.  I’ve been up for hours.” I say flippantly, the lie rolling off my tongue all too easily.  His eyes flick to the shirt, and then to the pile of clothes in front of the mirror.  I see him frown slightly at the oddity.  _Well of course it’s odd.  Who undresses in front of a mirror?  When I find you Hans, you’re a dead man._

“We need to get you some new clothes.” He says finally, turning his gaze back towards mine.  I smile ruefully.

“That would be nice.” I chuckle, glancing down at the shirt.

“We can have a tailor brought up to the palace if you’d like?” he offers kindly.  I nod eagerly.

“Yes, thank you.  Not Octavia’s dressmaker.” I say firmly.  He laughs. 

“Fair enough.  After all, we can’t have you two looking identical at the engagement ball.” I raise an eyebrow.

“Engagement ball?” I ask, puzzled.  He sighs.

“In three days, there is to be a ball celebrating the prince’s and Octavia’s engagement.” He sighs.  I note how he doesn’t refer to Hans by his name; merely as ‘the prince.’ _Curious._ I sigh, inwardly dreading the ball. 

“how delightful.” I say sarcastically, crossing my arms over my chest.  Adrian’s sigh mirrors my own.

“I know I know.  I don’t like it any more then you do, but we both have to make an appearance.” His reluctance to go surprises me. 

“Not a social butterfly then?” I ask teasingly, smirking.  He exhales on a laugh.

“Hardly.  However, one of the many duties required of me as crown prince is to come to these things.” He rolls his eyes with distaste, making me chuckle. 

“I do sympathise.”

“Of course, **_Queen_** Elsa.” He bows slightly, placing emphasis on the Queen, like he is only just remembering.  I’m obscurely pleased by this.  I chuckle.

“Hush you.”  I order him playfully. 

“You’re will is my command.”

“In that case, I don’t suppose I could wait for the seamstress in here could I?” I ask, smiling. 

“Of course.  Would you like some books?” I grin eagerly.

“That would be utterly delightful, thank you.” I am genuinely touched by his kindness.  He nods, smiling at me in his gentle way before turning to leave, sparing one last glance at the pile of clothes by the mirror.  The door closes behind him with a soft click, leaving me alone once more.  I sigh, but perk up inexplicably by the thought that Hans has to see me at some time today, to give me the cure.  Wait. 

When did I start to look forward to seeing him?

Oh dear.

**Hans**

I walk through the palace like a shadow, not bothering to smile politely at the servants who tactlessly stare at me as I walk down the hall carrying a glass of the precious liquid; the antidote shimmering slightly as the sun hits it.  _I’m destroying my life just for this.  At least it’s pretty._ Careful not to spill any, I find myself at the door to Elsa’s room, not troubling myself to knock.  _No point in breaking old habits._ My lips curve at the thought before I open the door with a thankfully gloved hand (I had managed to find a pair) and find myself walking in on a familiar scene; Elsa sitting cross legged on the bed, chin on her knuckles, totally absorbed in a book.  I cough, smirking, making her glance up, her eyes narrowing in her favourite expression; a glare.

“Do you mind? I was just getting to the good bit.” She says haughtily.  I chuckle at her obstinate nature.

“By all means, don’t let me interrupt you.” I raise the glass, reminding her of exactly why I’m here.   She rolls her eyes, and, rather than get up and eagerly take the cure, she turns her gaze back to her book.  I get the distinct feeling she does this to bore me, and, damn her, it’s working.  I stop myself from fidgeting on the spot, and instead roll my eyes.

“I changed my mind; let me interrupt you.” I say petulantly. She lifts her head, glaring at me with her piercing azure eyes. 

“Possess yourself with patience Charming.” She says flatly, once more turning back towards the book.  I roll my eyes again and decide to call her bluff, turning on my heel and opening the door as if to leave.   I hear the sound of a book hastily being closed, something which makes me curve my lips.  I pause, not turning around.

“fine, fine.  I’ve finished anyway.” She says pointedly.  I turn around, smirking.

“Funny, how did I know you’d change your mind?” She glowers at me before standing gracefully, stalking towards me like a delicately irritated cat.  I notice she’s in Adrian’s shirt again; I can’t prevent a scowl slipping onto my features.  She reaches for the glass; I swiftly shift it out of her grasp, not spilling a drop.  She glares.

“What?” she asks flatly, acknowledging the fact my current resistance to her is probably because I want something.  I smile at her sweetly, holding the glass just out of reach.  She rolls her eyes, clearly realising something.  “It’s the shirt, isn’t it?” I smile again, mockingly.

“You bet it is.” She huffs.

“Honestly Hans, I’m just wearing this until the dressmaker arrives.” She says pointedly.  I smile sweetly.

“I still don’t like it.” I say innocently.  She glares.

“What, you’d prefer if I was naked?” I smirk.

“Honestly?” She bats my upper arm lightly.

“You are so-” she breaks off mid growl, searching for a word.  I smirk.

“Charming?  Irresistible?  Overwhelming?” I murmur.   She smiles at me with venomous sweetness.

“Irritating.” I hide a smile and feign hurt.

“oh, ouch.   Do you want this, or not?” I ask pointedly.  She crosses her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow.

“Why do I sense some blackmail coming on?” I chuckle.

“it’s not blackmail!  More like forced favours.” She rolls her eyes.

“fine.  Let’s hear them.” She sighs tiredly.  I smirk.

“relax Your Majesty, I’m not asking for your kingdom, just you’re body.” I say smugly. 

“Why did I have a feeling you were going to say that?” I glare at her.

“I wasn’t finished.”  I say pointedly.  She sighs.

“please, continue.” I smirk.

“Thanks.  I want you to promise that you won’t bed Adrian.” Her eyes widen slightly before they narrow.

“Firstly, I can’t believe you think I **_would._** Secondly, you have no right to tell me who I can and can’t invite into my bed.” I raise an eyebrow. 

“I think you’ll find I can.” I say smugly.  She scowls.

“You’re a dead man when I’m cured.” She hisses.   I give her a complacent smile.

“Then I had better take advantage of my life whilst I’m living.” She groans.

“Of all of the men who could hold my fate in their hands, it had to be you.” She says bitterly.  I smile brightly.

“I think it’s rather funny.” I chuckle. 

“Hilarious.” She says flatly.  I hand her the glass.

 “Drink up Queenie.” She sets the glass to her lips and gulps the shimmering liquid down quickly.  She hands me the empty glass, smiling weakly.

“Thanks Charming.” She murmurs softly, her tumultuous blue eyes as unreadable as ever.   I give a flippant shrug.

“What can I say?  I do like playing the hero.” I chuckle, smirking.  She huffs, rolling her eyes.

“No, you like the boost to your ego.  Not that it needs any boosting.” She says pointedly.  I shrug, unabashed.

“True.” She snorts delicately.

“So, tonight?” I ask brightly.  She rolls her eyes, but not before I catch the spark of pleasure in them.

“if you insist.  As you so love to remind me, I can’t exactly say no.” she says haughtily.  I chuckle.

“Oh, I think you want to Elsa.”

“anything for your ego.” She snaps.  I laugh.

“That’s probably true.”  Silence falls on us again. 

 Suddenly, Elsa gives a small groan, her face growing pale.  I frown, concerned.

“Elsa, what’s wrong?  You’re white as a sheet!”  She gives a weak chuckle, hunching slightly, hands against her stomach.

“I’m always white as a sheet idiot.” I roll my eyes at her customary disagreeableness, minutes tick by in silence as I quietly observe her, unsure of exactly what to do.  After a while, she slowly straightens, the colour tentatively returning to her cheeks.

“Interesting.” She murmurs to herself.  I shake my head.

“What is?” I ask sulkily.  Her eyes come up to meet mine, the blue depths showing confusion.

“I just felt…sick.” I laugh at her response.

“Is that all?” she glares at me.

“You don’t get it Charming.  I never feel sick.  I just… ** _don’t,_** something to do with my magic.  Let alone as strongly and as quickly as I just felt that.”  She snaps.  My eyes widen slightly, a single panicked thought coming to my mind. 

_Oh no.  No, No, No, No…_

I mentally count all the times me and Elsa had…had been intimate. 

_Why the hell weren’t we more careful!?!_

“Elsa…You don’t think you could be…” I trail off, gesturing fruitlessly to her stomach.  Rather than glare at me furiously like I was expecting, Elsa merely stares at me with an icy distance that makes me feel like I’ve been kicked in the stomach.

“Don’t.  Don’t say it.  Don’t even **_think_** it.” She says coldly, her voice mild.  I frown, surprised at her reaction, and, I must confess, a little annoyed at her point blank refusal of something that **needs** to be thought about. 

“Why not?  Elsa, I know it’s difficult, but we have to at least consider the possibility!”  I protest, moving a step forward.  She steps backwards, her blue eyes guarded and icy.

“No.  No we don’t.” she says in her cold calm way.   I ball my fists, irate at her pointless resistance. 

“why are you being so difficult?!” I snap, pushed into anger.  She sighs sadly.

“I’m not, really.  Just…take my word for it.  It’s probably just the cure.” She says firmly, turning away, her back to me.  I make a small noise of frustration, convinced she’s hiding something from me. 

“how can you be so sure?!” I exclaim, exasperated. 

“I just am.” She snaps over her shoulder, not looking at me.  I growl, angry before I turn to leave, going to the door.  I hesitate on the threshold, opening my mouth to say something, anything, but think the better of it, and close the door.  I refrain from kicking it, furious at her obstinance, at her keeping yet more secrets. 

“damned woman.” I hiss, tossing the empty glass out of a conveniently open window next to Elsa’s room.  I feel better after that, smoothing my shirt down, smoothing over my enraged frown, easing my expression.   I leave the corridor looking like a carefree prince, but inside, I have an uneasy sense of foreboding. 

Instinctively, I know that whatever Elsa isn’t telling me, isn’t good.

**Adrian**

I slam the book shut irritably, dust rising from the yellowed pages at my rough ministrations.  I close my eyes, regaining control of my temper.  I set it down on the desk before leaning back, placing my hands on my chest. _I’m so goddamned tired…_ I haven’t slept a wink, not since yesterday’s little incident.  Although, I don’t think I was the only one who didn’t get a very good sleep.  I see the pile of clothes in front of the mirror again in my mind’s eye, the red fabric pooled in such a way that almost seems sinful.  I feel a dark cloud of jealousy rise in me, and I press it down firmly.  I have no right to be jealous at all; Elsa and I are nothing beyond friends, and it will stay that way.  It has to. 

I sigh, deciding I need to clear my head; I go to the door and leave the quiet study, going to the one place where my mind will be distracted from thoughts of Elsa.  I silently slip through doors and hallways, a mere shadow despite who I am. 

_But what am I, if not a shadow?_

I open a quiet, nondescript door in a quiet, nondescript corner of the palace, inhaling the sweet stench of rotting roses and the air of forgotten sunlight.  The heavy drapes are shut, leaving the room in dim light.  I can hear the brittle rasp of breathing; a body lies, silent and oblivious on the bed. 

I stand next to him, watching over him like I always am.  An old man, pepper and salt hair grows over a large golden crown, so different to my simple circlet of gold, a trimmed beard covers his chin, his pale skin shows the lines of the years.  His clothes are fine, but out of fashion; so long has it been since he was changed into his current clothes.  Then, we had thought we were dressing him for his death bed, but fate, as it so often does, had other plans.  I stare at him silently, enjoying the brief peace and the air of darkness which fills the room, fills my lungs.  As I so often do, I wonder what he dreams of.  His Kingdom, His wife, his daughter.  Not his son though.  A wry smile crosses my features as I silently observe him.  It’s almost funny really; the most intimidating figure of my childhood is now little more than a breathing wax figure, a living mannequin. 

“You wouldn’t believe whose here at the moment father.  Queen Elsa of Arendelle.” I say softly, talking to him.  I give a dry chuckle.  “I imagine you’d remember her.  She did, after all, bring you all this, did she not?  Don’t worry father, I didn’t tell her what you did.  Doesn’t mean I won’t though.  I’m rather…at war with myself about that.” I say wryly.  I know that if anyone was to come in, they would think me insane, but I don’t care.  No one comes in here anyway; not Octavia, not the servants, certainly not any of his ministers.  Father isn’t exactly beloved.  I vaguely notice the room’s temperature has dropped; I shiver slightly.

“You really would not believe what your daughter is up to Father.  Although, on second thoughts, I believe you absolutely would.” I say bitterly, turning slightly and running my fingertips along the edges of the dying rose petals.  I don’t know why they even bother with flowers; it’s not as if he can actually smell them. 

“She seems to be taking a leaf out of your book and is blackmailing some prince.  You know how I usually take an...impartial view of Octavia’s antics, but this is utterly outrageous.  I know what you’d say, dear father.  _“Octavia’s young, let her have her fun.  Don’t worry about it.”_  But you see, I’m not sure if I will let her do this.  I don’t want to end up like you; alone, forgotten; quiet till the end.   I think it’s time for me to choose a side, don’t you?  I’ve flittered between good and bad for far too long.” I murmur innocently, my poisonous words mingling with the suffocating atmosphere of the room.   I turn away from him, unable to look at his peaceful form any longer.  I face towards the window; its curtains tightly shut.  I sigh.

“Why won’t you just **_die?_** ” I hiss, voicing the words I have been aching to, for oh so long.  The longer he is alive, the longer I’m trapped in this limbo; hearing the voices, walking past the quiet little door and knowing what lies beyond it, being slowly eaten away by the bitterness he put there.  I straighten my red shirt, square my shoulders and allow my snarl to slip into a friendly smile.   I walk out of the room, with its poison and darkness, but, with a sinking feeling as I close the door behind me, I acknowledge what I’ve always known.

Every time I go in there, part of that poison leaves with me. 

**Elsa**

“If you could just hold out your arms Your Majesty…” the plump seamstress murmurs deferentially.  I automatically stretch out my arms as she bids, hardly hearing her, my mind fully fixed on my thoughts of this morning’s encounter with Hans, which I keep replaying in my mind, over and over and over…

**_“Elsa…You don’t think you could be…”_ **

With child. 

I bite my lip against a dark chuckle, aware of the dressmaker’s presence, the irony of the situation not escaping me.  I recall the look of frustration and anger in Hans’s glittering green eyes, how I had to bite my tongue against telling him, turning away because I couldn’t bear to look at him. 

_He can’t know._

I can’t get any more…involved with him then I already am.  Why wouldn’t he just accept my answer? 

_Because he’s a stubborn male, that’s why._

Memories start to flood back to me far too quickly, all at once, a silent room filled with still snowflakes, a worried glance from my mother to my father, a gentle voice explaining something complicated a 17 year old could never hope to understand. 

**_“This won’t hurt a bit…”_ **

I shake myself furiously, earning me the attention of the dressmaker, who glances up at me, startled.  I smile at her reassuringly.

“Sorry.” I apologise.  Her eyes widen slightly at the apology.

“it is fine your majesty.” She says carefully, her words heavily accented. 

She murmurs thoughtfully before jabbing some more pins into the fabric with vengeance.  As is required for a fitting, I’m half undressed, only in my undergarments.  Whilst she has undoubtedly noticed the scar over my heart, she doesn’t mention it.   I can hardly sew anything without staining it with blood despite numerous (painful) attempts when I was younger.  _Well, I had to alleviate the boredom somehow.  It’s amazing what being shut in a room for 13 years does for your mind_.  I push out the bitter thought and drag myself back to the present.  I consider myself in the mirror silently, the room peaceful as the dressmaker hums quietly to herself as she shifts around me, placing yet more pins onto my carefully still form.  The fabric is thankfully blue; I had made it **_very_ ** clear that any scrap of red fabric would meet with disapproval.  All I see on me at the moment is a bolt of silver silk, I can hardly believe it will magically transform into a dress.  I supress a small smile at the irony before I realise the dress maker has stood back, and is surveying me critically.  I raise an eyebrow.

“Anything the matter?” I ask gently.  She starts as I finally speak.   She shakes her head vigorously.

“No No your majesty.  It’s just…” she trails off.  I smile encouragingly.

“Just what?” I prompt.  She smiles hesitantly, searching for words.

“well, your Majesty is so beautiful, I’m not sure if extra adornments will be necessary.  ” she asks quietly.  I smile.

“Perfect.  I’ll need this one in three days, and three other less formal ones by tonight, if you can.” I say shortly.  She gives a haughty sniff.

 “Of course I can!  They shall be sent to the palace by nightfall.” She says proudly, her exotic accent coming out stronger.   I clap my hands excitedly.

“Wonderful!”  she blushes slightly, the pink becoming her tanned skin tone as she sets about swiftly marking where the pins had lain with a small piece of chalk before taking them out, allowing the fabric to slip from my body with a whisper.   She picks it up, folding it and placing it in her hefty bag with four other blue pieces of material; each a different shade, from cobalt to the palest of blues.   She curtseys awkwardly and leaves the room with her obscenely large bag, leaving me to my thoughts.  I stare at myself in the mirror before retrieving the red shirt and placing it over my head, covering my half nakedness that’s always required with a fitting.  _Well, at least I won’t have to wear Octavia’s clothes anymore.  I really was feeling quite ridiculous._ I go to the small desk in the corner, sitting on the chair with a sulky flounce.  I tap my long nails against the polished wood, my irritable boredom growing.  Whilst I expect responses back from my ministers within four days (Elmira does, after all, border the Isen, just short of Arendelle) for the minute, I have hardly anything to do, something which does not mix well with the dark thoughts and memories which are converging on me threateningly, no matter how I try to fight them off.   I haven’t thought about this in years, why am I thinking about this now?!

**_“As future queen, it’s your royal duty to bear heirs…”_ **

_Ohhh no.  No.  No.  No._

I shake my head free of my mother’s kind voice; I don’t need this, not **_now._**   Not when I need to have more of a grip on myself than ever.  I restlessly rise from the chair, pacing around the room.  I halt in my tracks when another memory, another voice washes over me like cold water.

**_“Elsa, we know you’re…different.  And as such, we need to make sure that you’re…problem, won’t destroy your future as the Queen to your King and in furthering our family line!”_ **

“Shut **UP!** ” I shout, running my hands through my loose hair and curling my hands in fists, tugging lightly at my minds stubborn resistance to my commands.  I shut my eyes, taking in a deep breath.  _Don’t feel.  Don’t feel.  Don’t feel._  My heartbeat, which had increased slightly in my outburst, starts to slow back to its normal rhythm.   I open my eyes hesitantly, inexplicably afraid of what I’d see, but, of course, there is no one there, just an empty patch of air.  I sigh.  I miss Anna.  She would know exactly what to say to me, how to comfort me. 

Then again, she has no idea.  She sees the pretty china surface, not the cracks underneath.  She never had the pressure, the pressure which she is evading even now by marrying her true love, which no one battered an eyelid about amongst the kingdoms.  As she was always meant to do.  I however, was the heir.  The first born daughter, who had to be painstakingly perfect.  At least, my parents idea of perfect.  All I had to do was smile charmingly, look pretty, get married and have children.   But fate had other plans.  Their heir, their precious future was anything but.  Thanks to the magic on my father’s side, I was cursed.  What use is a queen who can’t touch anything without freezing it, who can never marry or even…

I halt myself, stopping myself from even thinking it, the pain too much.  The poisonous train of thought seeps back into my mind like toxic liquid that I can’t stop from entering.   Bitterness rises; not just at my curse, but at my parents, who imprisoned me. 

_That was for my own good…_




No, it wasn’t.

I become aware that I’m quietly chuckling for no apparent reason at all, the odd return of my past somehow prompting laughter.   My giggle distorts alarmingly, becoming hysterical, and then develops into heaving sobs as I permit myself to cry, all the memories of my childhood looming at me threateningly from the recesses of my mind.

 ** _“Elsa, we found a doctor.  He specializes in this sort of thing, he wants to see you._** We ** _want him to see you.  I know we said no one can ever know of your powers, but he’s different.  Your…affliction isn’t curable, but we need to see if you can…if you can fulfil your royal duties.”_**

 _Shut up. **Shut up**_ **.**  My breathing grows wilder, my heartbeat skyrocketing as my knees buckle, I crumble to the floor slowly, tears streaming down my face as the painful sound of my sobs echo through the empty space.  I rest my forehead against the cool marble of the floor.

 **“ _Don’t talk like that Elsa.  Anna can’t have an arranged marriage; honestly, do you expect her to foster heirs instead of you?  Whatever’s wrong with you Elsa can be fixed._** You ** _can be fixed.”_**

I draw in heaving breaths, rocking back and forth trying to comfort myself, my eyes shut against everything as I let it go, all the emotions, the frustration and the sadness that had been pent up inside me since coming to this godforsaken country.  _You can be fixed._  

Hans had once called me preferable. 

If only he knew how wrong he had been.

I sob loudly, my breathing harried and gasping as my tears run rivers onto the cold floor as I allow the pain and repressed memories to all flood back to me. 

**_“This won’t hurt a bit…”_ **

I freeze when a cold male voice echoes through my mind.  A burst of small pain echoes through me, accompanying the lie like it did back then.  It’s not much, but it’s enough for me to snap out of whatever it is that’s gotten over me.  My breathing slowly clears, my tears dry a little.  Slowly, after what feels like a long time, spent and weak, I drag myself up into a sitting position.  My tears on the ground look like a small puddle, I know I probably look like a mess, but honestly, I couldn’t care less **.** I know I should feel ashamed of my outburst, of the fracture of my control, but I feel empty, drained.  I don’t bother to stand, slowly rebuilding strength as my wits sluggishly return to me.  I interlink my hands, clasping them thoughtfully. 

Whatever that was, it clearly happened for a reason.  I may revisit my past occasionally, but not **_that_** part… I shake myself, thinning my lips into a line as I remember the look of anger and incomprehension on Hans’s pretty face.

It’s not fair of me to keep him in the dark, not when he is risking so much to save me. 

I should set his mind at rest. 

I steel my resolve, squaring my shoulders and wiping the last of the tears from my cheeks and the corner of my eyes before I narrow them in an experimental icy glare.  I stand slowly, grabbing onto the fortunately close desk, hauling myself up in the shirt.  I sigh, tonight is not going to be easy.

I have to tell Hans. 

**Hans, later.**

I silently stalk the wearingly familiar hallways in what’s rapidly becoming a regular routine.  I didn’t even have to slip out of mine and Octavia’s room; she never came back after dinner and is off god knows where.  However, something’s different.  I haven’t stopped mulling over what happened this morning, throughout wedding preparations, when my giggling bride kissed me for whatever reason, when I should have been paying the utmost attention, my thoughts were (predictably) turned towards the platinum blonde Snow Queen.

**_“Don’t.  Don’t say it.  Don’t even think it.”_ **

I shake my head, taking deep breaths as I pad down the dark corridors.  I should apologise, but really, I’ve never been the apologising type.  We do have to sort out our differences however; it’s not easy to do a good deed like saving someone’s life without…proper motivation.  A smirk curves my lips at the thought.  If Elsa **_is_** pregnant, then it could be the end of everything, including her life and, even if she managed to leave here with it concealed, when she gets back to Arendelle, someone’s bound to find out.  And if they found out who it was with… 

I realise I’ve reached her room, and yet, there’s no light underneath the doors.  Almost like she doesn’t want to see me.  Still, when have I let that stop me before?  A smile curves my lips and I open the door quietly.  The rooms dark, I can only see faint outlines of the bed.  I shut the door behind me with a click, and then suddenly, a voice speaks from the darkness. 

“Would it kill you to knock?” she snaps, I open my mouth to give a tart rejoinder, when suddenly, I am pushed against a wall and Elsa’s mouth is on mine. I give a small murmur of pleased surprise before wrapping my arms around her slim waist, flicking my tongue over her plump lips before she pulls back, her hands on my shoulders lightly.  I can hardly see her, but I know her smirk matches my own.  I pull her waist in even closer to me.

“why don’t you greet me like that all the time?” I chuckle, she bats my torso with her hand playfully.

“because you don’t deserve it half the time.” She says dryly.

“that’s probably true.” She chuckles, slipping out of my grasp like liquid.  The room is so dim that I can only see the dark outline of her body as she gracefully walks away from me, the lines soft and blurred like smudged ink on paper.

“So tell me Your Majesty, what did I do to deserve such a welcome?” I ask teasingly, pushing myself off the wall, following her at what I deem to be a safe distance as she goes and stands in front of the large window, its curtains drawn.  She opens them, allowing moonlight to flood in, illuminating her face.  She stares out over the silent parkland, her room faces the back of the palace, overlooking the gardens.  I stand next to her.  She turns her face towards mine, blue eyes sparkling. 

“It occurred to me that I was somewhat harsh this morning… I’m sorry.” She says hesitantly.  I chuckle, earning me a sharp glare from her.

“What’s this? The Queen of Arendelle apologising?” I murmur mockingly.  She glowers at me.

“Yes, but she’ll happily take it back.” She snaps.  I put my hands up as if to fend her off.

“Alright Alright, apology accepted.  It’s not exactly what I wanted though.” I turn my gaze from her and stare out the window again.  I can practically feel her raise an eyebrow.

“And what do you want” she asks, a barely detectable note of amusement in her voice.  

“An explanation.  Why did you respond the way you did?” She sighs sadly.

“It’s a long story-”

“I’ve got time.” I cut her off calmly.  She groans, I feel her arm brush against mine as she brings her hands up to her face.  I turn my head slightly and watch her rub the heels of her palms into her eyes.

“It’s…complicated.” She hesitates, dropping her hands.  I stare into her azure eyes unflinchingly.

“Stop stalling.”

“I’m not stalling!” she argues.  I roll my eyes.

“Yes, you are.  Elsa, if we are going to get out of here, you need to trust me.”  I take her hand lightly in my gloved one.  She scoffs.

“Trust?  Your despicable and I hate you.” She says automatically. I chuckle.

“Then why are you still holding my hand?”

She quickly snatches her hand out of my grasp, but it’s too late.  She’s fractured her already tenuous illusion of loathing for me.                                                                                                               

“Elsa, if your pregnant, we’re ruined.  You could be carrying our child!” She looks up at me, blue eyes filled with such dark pain and sadness it takes my breath away.

“Don’t you see?  I **_can’t_**.”

I stare at her in confusion.

“What?” I ask quietly.  She shrugs, giving me a sad smile.

“A little side effect of my curse.  Ice doesn’t particularly nurture life.”  I stare at her for a beat, and then understanding dawns on me.

Of course…It’s so obvious. 

_She can’t conceive…_

“Elsa, I’m so, so sorry.” I say finally, my words hopelessly inadequate.  She shrugs again.

“Why?  It’s not your fault.” She says simply.  I shrug back.

“I know.”  Silence.  I hesitate, knowing I shouldn’t pry further, but I can’t stop myself.

“How do you know?” I ask slowly.  She sighs again, a sound containing all the sadness in the world.  She leans against my side, turning her gaze out toward the silent garden. 

“My parents got a doctor.   They wanted me to hide my powers, but apparently my ability to have children was more important.” She says bitterly.  I automatically place my arm around her shoulder, drawing her closer to my side.  She rests her head on my shoulder softly. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” She murmurs quietly.  I glance down at the top of her white head in surprise.

“Elsa, don’t be ridiculous.  I’m surprised you even **_did_** tell me.” She tilts her head up, lifting her gaze to mine, cheek pressing into my shoulder.

“I wasn’t going to.  I changed my mind.” She murmurs, blue eyes bright against the darkness.  I lift my left hand and trail it down her cheek. 

“why?” I murmur.  She shrugs, avoiding my gaze for the first time.

“I’m not sure.” She mumbles, touchingly unconvincingly.  I smile.

“Well, I’m flattered.  If I can ask…when did you find out?” I ask hesitantly.  She sighs, closing her eyes tiredly.

“When I was seventeen.” My eyes widen slightly.  Such a young age to find out such a terrible truth…I lean my head down slightly and kiss her pale forehead, her eyes lazily open.  She smiles before quickly coming up onto her toes and kissing my cheek softly.  She gives me an impish smile, the sad atmosphere in the room dissipates slightly.  I shift round, my hands circling her slim waist as I stare down at her, our chests lightly touching.  She smiles up at me, her gaze open and unguarded. 

“I’ve got this terrible feeling.” I murmur lightly, flicking my thumb over her pale cheek.   She raises an eyebrow.

“Oh?” she asks playfully.  Spurred on by her own confession, her own openness, I feel the need to tell her.  To stop hiding. 

“Yes.  It’s utterly stupid, hopeless and infuriatingly irrational, but, I think, Elsa, Queen of Arendelle, Despite the fact you’re a self-righteous whore, I may actually be in love with you.”    

Her blue eyes widen in shock.  Rather than push me away as I had thought she would, rather than call me crazy or strike me, she reaches up with a cool hand and cups my cheek. 

“And, I suppose, Prince Hans of the Southern Isles, despite the fact you’re an evil, scheming, arrogant bastard, I may actually be in love with you.”

_Wait, what?_

My eyes widen in surprise, but she grabs my collar and tugs my lips down to hers.  I envelop myself into the kiss, opening, entering doors she had locked a long time ago.  I feel her pain, her fear, her love as clearly as it’s my own, and I know instinctively she is feeling the same.  Wordlessly, I tell her that I love her.  I pour emotion I never even knew I had into the kiss; we find solace in each other from our pain, from our pasts.  We know there’s no future for us, for the queen and the evil prince, but for now, in this moment, it doesn’t matter.  None of it matters.  She breaks from the kiss, and, to my surprise, I see her azure eyes are filled with tears.  She smiles breathtakingly, radiating something I had only seen on her face once.




She gives a shaky laugh, running a trembling hand through her platinum hair.  She meets my eyes, sighing sadly despite the content look in her eyes.

“We, my dear Charming, are fucked.”

**Octavia.**

Octavia strolls through the quiet moonlit gardens, red skirt brushing against the grass with the faintest of whispers, like forgotten secrets which lay at the heart of this palace; this palace of deceit and lies.  Letter in hand, she moves forward purposefully, late night dew forming on the ground as the moonlight illuminates the open park land which is behind the castle.  She crumples the letter in her delicate fist, scrunching the paper and dropping it on the ground without a second thought. 

_I hope I’m not here long.  I really must get back to bed, and to my betrothed._

Her pouting lips curve in a triumphant smile as her thoughts turn towards Hans, towards her impending marriage.  She walks past a tree, brushing her fingers against it lightly. 

“Good evening You’re Highness.” A chilling voice speaks behind her.  The hairs on the back of her neck prickle instinctively before she turns around, red fabric brushing against the damp grass.  In the dim light, it’s impossible to see the face of the tall figure, hidden by a dark hooded cloak.  She shivers.

“Who are you, and how did you get me the note?” she demands sulkily.  He shrugs.

“Does it matter?” he asks in a bored monotone.  She tosses her head irritably.

“This had better be good.” She snaps petulantly, wrapping her arms around herself although she’s cold; but it’s a façade.  She just wants an excuse to leave as quickly as possible.

“This will only take a moment of your time your highness.  I have a business proposition that has benefits to both of us.” He says in his low, empty voice, devoid of any emotion.  She cocks her head to the side, trying to see his face underneath the hood.

“Why would I want to do business with a complete stranger?  I already have everything I want.” She says childishly. 

“Do you?  That prince of yours doesn’t love _you._ He is enamoured with the Snow Queen.” At his blunt words, she gasps with shock, and then, inevitably, denial.

“That’s a lie!  Hans loves **_me_**!  He does…” she trails off, defeated already as she remembers the look in Hans’s green eyes when he looks at the Queen, her words come out self convincingly, hollow.  He makes a small murmur of sympathy.

“There There Princess.  You’re prince will love you.” He says soothingly, like speaking to a small child.  She widens her golden eyes with yearning.

“He will?” she asks hopefully.   He nods slightly.

“He will.  All you need to do is give Elsa to me, and your princes thoughts will only be of you.” She frowns at his empty words.

“Elsa is leaving anyway.” She says sulkily, pouting.  He tilts his head slightly.

“So?  She will never truly leave him, he will think of her always, when his lips are against yours, when he talks to you at dinner, when he is by your side-“ she cuts him off, stamping her foot.

“Enough!” she snarls, balling her hands into fists,  the man’s words instilling doubt and rage into her fragile mind. 

“what will happen to her?” she asks, but her tone makes it obvious that she doesn’t care.  So long as Hans is hers.  He shrugs.

“Does it matter?” he asks again.  She smiles.

“No, it doesn’t.” she giggles brightly.  _It’s all so perfect, and makes so much sense.  The instant Elsa is gone; Hans will love me._

 “When?” she asks flippantly, her mind already on other things.  He senses this, and presses.

“The wedding.  Before she is completely cured.” He says flatly.  She frowns at his reference to the antidote before shrugging, deciding not to care how he knows.  She smiles again before giggling, walking past the cloaked man back towards the palace.  He watches the red figure go with bottle green eyes; calculating and empty. 

_Soon Elsa.  Soon._

 


	13. chapter 13

**Here we are at my lucky number…13!  A darker chapter this time guys, warning for violence.  My, look at how far we’ve gotten!  I cannot thank you enough for all your reviews, favs and follows; they give me more joy then you’ll ever know!  This chapters a little long, but you know…I think it may be my favourite!**

**-A**

**P.s: spot the Aristocats reference ;)**

**Hans**

I stand in the centre of the huge ballroom, servants bustling around me hanging large lanterns, carrying ladders or plates, readying for tonight’s party, excitement in the air, shining on clean faces.  I however, feel nothing but resigned dread.

**_“I may actually be in love with you…”_ **

Elsa’s voice echoes through my mind, her words causing just as much surprise as they did when I first heard them three days ago. How can she love _me?_  It’s not low self-esteem which causes me to question, arrogance is part of my nature, but rather surprise at _her._ She has far more sense; she will undoubtedly have realised, as I have, that we cannot possibly have a future together.  The Queen and her assassin; it’s almost laughable if it wasn’t so tragic.  Besides, we couldn’t work.  We **_can’t_** work.  She’s too controlled, too calculating, and I’m too controlled and too calculating.  I seem to bring out the worst in her, and she brings out the best in me. 

Never a good mix. 

However, She hasn’t put me off my suicide mission; indeed, I’m more determined than ever to see it through, to **_save_** her.  Despite my selfish, cruel heart, much to my horror and shock, I think I may actually do anything for her. 

_Fuck._

I’m supposed to be a villain, and I’m behaving like a godforsaken hero, and I don’t like it.

 Not one little bit. 

Then again, Elsa isn’t exactly behaving like the all-round good guy she’s meant to be either.  I saw her kill two men with fire for Christ’s sake.  Still, perhaps it’s her darker half, the half that saw me pushed up against a wall with a spike of ice against my throat, I find so fascinating about her.  A servant brushes up against me, holding a basket of laundry.  She glances up, eyes widening in apology. 

“I’m so sorry your Highness!” she stammers out, cheeks staining pink.  I hardly notice, my mind too preoccupied on thoughts of the Snow Queen.

“It’s fine.” I murmur distractedly, she bobs her head and swiftly bustles away, melting into the soundless din, the faceless crowd.  I shake myself, turning away from the busy scene, an uneasy feeling in my stomach, like butterflies.  If this is love, I want no part of it.  I give a tired chuckle when I realise that if I had only been more persistent with Elsa when I first came to Arendelle, I could have ruled the kingdom **_and_** been with her.  Now, we have little more than a week before I’m stuck here in this godforsaken country, and she leaves for Arendelle. 

I’m not stupid.  I know I won’t see her again.

I banish the disgustingly horrifying thought and rub my temples, groaning slightly.  I haven’t got a wink of sleep, not after last night.  After remembering the sad haunted look in her bright blue eyes, it’s doubtful I’ll sleep tonight either.  A red figure which hurls itself into my arms reminds me of the other reason I won’t be sleeping.  I take a step back, balancing myself from the rigour of the impact, inwardly sighing.  It has been all too easy to avoid her the last few days.  I stare down at the fair upturned face, honey blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders, golden eyes glittering, red lips pouting.

“Hans darling, where _have_ you been?” she breaths excitedly.  I find myself unable to summon the enthusiasm to pretend, to force my lips to smile.  So, instead, I briefly close my eyes and imagine her petulant sulky features to be Elsa’s.  That it’s the Snow Queen in my arms, Elsa smiling up at me. I know how sick it is, how twisted but I can’t stop myself.  I smile and open my eyes again.

“here and there.  Missing you dearly.” I say softly.  She giggles, shaking her blonde hair.  I imagine it to be white.

“You really are charming.” She breathes, shattering the illusion.  I flinch at the word, Elsa’s nickname for me sounds so girlish, so irritating coming from her plump lips.  I force a smile, forcing the facade back.

“Thank you.  Now if you’ll excuse me-” I try to extricate her from my arms, but she grips the shirt fabric on my shoulders in a talon like grasp. 

“oh no Charming, you’re not going anywhere.  I don’t like you seeing that pale thing of yours.” She murmurs disdainfully.  My temper rises at her calling Elsa that way, as not even human.  I briefly lament my lack of a sword.  

“Octavia, I have to, to give her the antidote!” I say innocently, fighting my temper.  It would not do to murder the princess of Elmira the day of her engagement ball…to me.  She scowls.

“I’ll get Adrian to give it to her.  You’re not going to see her anymore darling.” She says sulkily, a malicious glint in her eyes. 

_Try and stop me._

Outwardly, I summon a smile, imagining I’m staring down into Elsa’s mischievous blue eyes, not into Octavia’s petulant gold ones, painstakingly rebuilding the delicate illusion, until I can almost see Elsa’s beautiful features ghosting over Octavia’s, the bones becoming slightly sharper, the chin firming, eyes glowing.

“Of course dearest.” I say sweetly, relaxing slightly.  She giggles.

“Good.  Adrian will give her the antidote from now on.” She says, a glint of triumph in her eyes.  Suddenly, I realise.

This is not just about her possessing me, but about her defeating Elsa.

As I stare into her pretty, upturned face, I feel a bolt of hatred so strong it makes me feel sick. 

“I’ll see you tonight darling!” she giggles, skipping away from my arms before I have a chance to slip my hands around her throat.  I watch her go, eyes narrowed and glaring.  After her red clad form rounds the corner, I swear violently, running a hand through the front of my auburn hair.

Love is so ridiculously stupid.  It’s gotten me into this senseless situation, only to make me watch as the brother of my blackmailer romances the woman I love.

When did everything get so fucked up?

**Elsa.**

“ **ugh!”**

I hurl myself onto the bed, falling down on my back, making the mattress bounce slightly as my head falls against the pillows, my arms splayed out. 

“Damn man!” I snarl, fisting my hands.  A taunting smirk and a mocking laugh fill my head, causing me to grab a pillow, press it against my face and scream into it.  I throw it across the room and take several deep breaths, making myself calm down. 

**_“I may actually be in love with you”_ **

His touchingly nervous voice echoes through my mind, making my heart flutter now as much now as it did then.  I don’t know what demon prompted me to blurt out what I did.  I had jumped off the proverbial cliff, and am about to face the sharp rocks of reality at the bottom.  I haven’t seen him in three days thank god, the cure has just been left on my doorstep.  I don’t know how I’d face him after that…but I’m going to have to after the ball tonight.  Hans is about to marry Octavia, his engagement ball tonight nonetheless.  I can’t have feelings for him, I can’t…I can’t love him. 

Love is for people like my sister and Kristoff, the bright heroes who walk the light and for whom love is just a normal emotion, something simple and beautiful that happens every day.

For people like me and Hans however, it’s a little more complicated.

Love gets in the way, clouds decisions and distracts from goals.  So, why do I, no, why do **we** feel this way? 

Perhaps it’s our shaky alignment with moral paths.  If Hans is all bad, why is he trying to save me now?  And if I am all good, then why did I attempt two murders back in my ice palace, and succeed at two in the Southern Isles? 

No, both of us walk the thin line between bad and good. 

It’s just a matter of where we fall when we’re pushed.

There is a knock on the door, I frown, standing up and allowing the blue folds of my new gown fall around my legs.  It’s not Hans, the bastard never knocks, which leaves two people. 

“Come in.” I call lightly, curious.  It’s a little early for Adrian, and I haven’t seen Octavia since the dinner, something which will happen tonight unfortunately.  Here’s hoping I can slip out early; I’m not particularly in the right frame of mind to stomach Hans’s engagement party.  The door opens and Adrian ducks his head in, I stare in surprise.

“Good morning Adrian… a little early?” I query.  He shrugs, ducking so as not to hit his head on the doorframe as he crosses the threshold, walking into the room.

“Probably.  Sorry if I disturbed you or anything, but it’s kind of important.” He murmurs.  I notice the dark circles under his eyes, his uneasy expression.  I frown slightly, laying a hand on his sleeve. 

“Are you okay Adrian?” I ask gently.  He flinches and brushes my hand away.

“I’m fine.” He says shortly, avoiding my eyes.  I frown and feel even more uneasy, but I don’t push him. 

“out with it then.” I say just as shortly.  He sighs, wordlessly reaching out a hand which contains a glass of shimmering pearlescent liquid.  I stare at it, recognising it immediately, but confused.   _Why is Adrian giving it to me?_  I take it and drink it, but frown.

“I’m sorry, I’m confused-” I start to say, he sighs again, thrusting an envelope into my hands before meeting my eyes.

“It’s from Octavia.” He explains.  He takes the glass and with an uncharacteristically short nod, turns on his heel and departs, leaving me staring after him, surprised.

_What was THAT about?_

For now though, I push thoughts of Adrian aside and focus on the letter in my hand.  I open the envelope and tear out the letter, scanning it, eyes narrowing as I read.

_Elsa,_

_I know you love Hans, and through some misguided phase, he seems to have a foolish attraction to you, god knows why.  Simply put Elsa, Other than my ball tonight, and my wedding in little more than a weeks’ time, you’re never going to see **my** prince again.  I expect his ridiculous infatuation with you will soon fade, and I, his one true love, will be there.  _

_Because really Elsa, When are you ever there- well, for anyone?_

_-O_

I narrow my eyes at the door, scrunching up the note with one hand, stretching out an arm and letting it drop to the floor, my blood boiling and mind whirling furiously fast.

_You think you have won?_

I feel something stir within me.

_You may be marrying him, but I will **fight** for that arrogant bastard. _

I don’t force it, but let it grow with my anger, my frustration, my fury. 

_You may be a princess Octavia,_

I feel something land on my shoulders.  I glance up.

_But I am the goddamned Queen._

It’s snowing. 

**Adrian**

I rest on the wall outside Elsa’s chambers, closing my eyes. 

**_“All you need to do is give Elsa to me, and your princes thoughts will only be of you”_ **

A chilling empty voice speaks out of the dark recesses of my mind, remembering last night’s dark rendezvous I had accidently been a witness too.  I’m not sure if I should be thankful for my moonlit walks, or despise them. 

Because of them, I have now been put in a very difficult position.

My light half, the good side of me is screaming that I take the cure from Octavia and tell Elsa to leave, to take her prince and **_run_** back to Arendelle where my sister and that man, whoever he is, can’t catch her.  

But, I reflect as I straighten from the wall and stalk through the palace, Do I really want to do that?  It would break my sister’s heart if Hans were to leave, and I can’t exactly pretend to be pleased about Elsa running off with him.  He is after all, her assassin, and she is a **_queen._** No, I justify.  Any future between them isn’t possible.  I however, am a very real, and a very suitable choice. 

**_“Adrian, the princess of Arendelle is a highly desirable bride.  Yes, she’s young now; of course we’ll wait till your both of age…”_ **

I halt, the cloying familiar scent of hyacinths swirling around me as I remember my mother glaring down at me, saying those words which I had thought, at the tender age of 6, to be my doom.  I shiver slightly from the almost perpetual state of cold I seem to be in these days, before I shake myself, clearing it of the memory before resuming my purposeful stride.  No, I can’t tell Elsa about the man, about my sisters plans for her.  I mean sure, she has her magic, but she can’t use it against a princess, and if she’s not expecting an attack, then it’s doubtful she would be able to defend herself against it.  And as for when; all that was said was ‘the wedding.’ I presume he means after; Elsa has of course been invited, it would be a great slight to not invite the Queen of Arendelle, a guest in our very own palace.  She is to receive the last of the cure at the reception afterwards, so perhaps before that… I growl in frustration.  It’s hard to protect someone when you don’t know who you’re protecting them from. 

Unless…

Perhaps he has something to do with those murders I read about?  It is too much of a coincidence, the words “Elsa” carved into several platinum blondes, and then this mysterious visitor.  I mean sure, she’s a queen with powerful magic and beauty to boot, so she’s a valuable prisoner for anyone who wants a ransom, but this…this doesn’t seem like a normal kidnap/capture attempt.  The man almost seemed like he **_knew_** Elsa, like he knew Octavia.  How else would he have known she would be so jealous as to agree to hand over a queen?  

**_“Does it matter?”_ **

To Octavia, No, Elsa’s fate wouldn’t.  But to me; yes, it very much does.  I square my shoulders.

No, I will protect her. 

But for now, with much regret, I have a ball to get ready for.

**Elsa**

I stare at myself in the mirror critically, twirling the end of a white tendril around my fingers.  _Something’s missing…ah yes._ I rummage through the detritus on the dressing table which I had somehow managed to accumulate, I had given a willing servant very strict instructions to bring me some certain items which I needed for the ball tonight.  I knock a small jar of powder over and I swear, my nervousness at seeing Hans again is making me uncharacteristically clumsy.  I find what I am looking for however.  I hold the small silver snowflake pendent up to the candlelight, surveying it critically before smiling.  I slip it round my neck and fasten it with difficulty before staring at myself once more in the mirror.  This time, I give a short nod of approval before turning away, my long train tinkling along the ground lightly.  The seamstress had truly outdone herself.  However, now that I’m ready, I have time to think.  I experimentally hold out my hand, and concentrate.  If I could make it snow before, I can do it again.  I try to force the magic through me, try to channel my ice but…nothing happens.  I growl with frustration.  So, it seems it only works when I’m angry.   I give a dry chuckle.  If it only works when I’m infuriated, then all I need to do is go down and spend some time with that blonde **_bitch_** of a princess.   I can hear the dim tinkle of music echo from the ballroom underneath me, the evening apparently underway.  I narrow my eyes and square my shoulders, steeling my resolve.  Tonight, I will make sure Octavia knows I am not so easily defeated. 

**Hans**

I quickly down another glass of champagne, already bored out of my mind.  Couples engage in a slow Pavine on the large ballroom floor, chatter and laughter spilling out of the open windows.  The cavernous space is lit with the glow of hundreds of lanterns which are attached to the high domed roof and line the walls, and a large chandelier filled with at least 100 candles, illuminating the couples dancing, dignitaries and royals drinking and chattering.  A large staircase leads down to the lavish pit of a ballroom, carpeted in the kingdoms signature red colour.  Very late ambassadors and fur bedecked wives descend it, handing their cards to the announcer who introduces them.  My betrothed is out receiving congratulations, her dress characteristically red, and characteristically scandalous, slashes up her legs and large keyholes cut out of the sides.  She looks less like a princess and more like a common harlot.  I’ve been thankfully ignored, most of the guests eyeing me distastefully and whispering behind gloved hands.  The only person who looks more uncomfortable then me is Adrian, who stands off in a corner.  Much to my joy, the prince is starting to look more and more hollowed, his cheekbones stark against his fair skin which has, if I didn’t know any better, gone a shade whiter, dark circles underneath his eyes… _what’s eating **him**?_    The only person who isn’t here, the person most of the people in this room have _really_ been waiting for, is Elsa.  She still hasn’t made her appearance, despite the fact the ball officially started 20 minutes ago. 

Suddenly, I hear it, the words the whole ballroom have been holding their breath for.  

_“Her royal Majesty, Queen Elsa of Isen, Ruler of the Crystal Glacier and all beyond, sovereign of the Rime seas and the once and future Queen of Arendelle.”_

The music screeches to a halt, the whole ballroom quiets and stares up at the figure standing on top of the red staircase next to the announcer. 

_Oh my-_

I am temporarily stunned, or should that be blinded?  Elsa is wearing a dress entirely made of silver which glitters in the bright candlelight, voluminous folds of fabric issue from her tiny waist in a skirt large enough for it to be supported by a crinoline, her slim stomach highlighted by a corset which enhances her not inconsiderable bust, her creamy flesh almost spilling out of the low cut bodice which just fits the rules of decorum.  A blue sash which signifies her high rank moves from her right shoulder to her left hip, her arms glitter with small crystals which spiral across her pale flesh like ice.  A high collar snakes its way across the back of her neck, like some sort of exotic animal.  A train easily 6 yards long spills from the bottom of her high collar, dark snowflakes on sheer silver fabric shimmer behind her.  The final touch is her platinum hair, her crowning glory, being piled on top of her head with a large snowflake comb.  She looks like some sort of winter angel; a queen of ice and snow, impossibly beautiful.  I am rendered temporarily speechless.

She dips into a small graceful curtsey, something which is echoed by the rest of the ballroom who bob like puppets.  I sneak a glance at Octavia, whose beautiful face looks like thunder, causing my mouth to turn up at the corners.  The tense moment passes and the music strikes up again, the ballroom shaking itself.  Elsa descends the huge staircase, expression serene, but I see how her hands are clenched together painfully tightly across her stomach.  I watch as she is quickly targeted by some dignitaries, who hurry up to her and rapidly strike up a conversation.  She deals with them quickly, nodding attentively, but to me, it’s obvious her mind is elsewhere.   I glance at Octavia, noticing her backs turned and that she is fully engaged talking to the Princess of Corona, and decide to take a risk.  I walk across the dance floor to Elsa, rescuing her from the talk of business.   I smile at the two men.

“would you excuse us  for a minute?” I ask gently.  They huff, but walk off.  Elsa chuckles.

“Ever the knight in shining armour.” She murmurs, turning towards me, blue eyes shining.  I shrug.

“I try.  Can I just say, you look unutterably beautiful” I add airily.  She glares at me, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Shut up charming.”  She snaps.  I roll my eyes, amused.

“Just giving you a compliment” She huffs before biting her lip.  I feel suddenly awkward, remembering three nights ago.

“ ** _I may actually be in love with you.”_**

Our careful distance around each other the last few days has merely been us avoiding talking about it, avoiding facing it.  But we can’t do that anymore.  She wraps her arms around her torso, hugging herself.

“so.” She says touchingly shyly .  I smile.

“so.” I repeat.  We let the music wash over us for a beat before I frown, rolling my eyes.  Honestly, we aren’t children for Christ sake. 

“Elsa I-“

“Hans I-“

We speak over the top of each other before breaking off into laughter.

“This is ridiculous.” She chuckles.  I shrug, smiling.

“this whole situation is ridiculous Elsa.” She nods before reaching to her side and elegantly retrieving a glass of champagne from a walking servant.  She skulls it down quickly.  I frown.

“Elsa, what-” I begin to say, she waves her hand dismissively.

“Don’t even try Charming.  Something odd happened today.” She quickly swerves topic, fire in her eyes. I know that look.  That was the same look she had before incinerating my brothers.  I take a small step back.

“What?” I ask cautiously.  She smiles predatorily.

“My powers came back.  Don’t look so excited, only for a second.  I made it snow.” She says casually.  My eyes widen slightly.

“Seriously?” She nods.

“Uh huh.” She confirms.  I hear the orchestra strike up familiar harrowing notes, I offer her my arm. 

“Shall we?” I ask gallantly.  She frowns slightly.

“Are you sure?” she murmurs, glancing over at Octavia, and then at Adrian who, interestingly, is glaring.  _Hmm._   I shrug.

“Why not?” I say cheerfully. She gives me a considering look, but picks up her train and takes my arm.

“why not indeed.” She murmurs smoothly.  We walk out into the centre of the dance floor amongst whispers rising from the room, she places her dainty hand on my shoulder, and I place my hand around her waist, our two other hands locking together.  We swiftly move into the familiar steps, swirling around the ballroom floor in the otherwise boring motion. 

 “This dress is the most uncomfortable thing I’ve ever worn in my life.  And I’ve worn a dress made of **_ice._** ” Elsa whispers confidingly, her eyes sparkling with mischief.  I chuckle.

“Well, you look incredible.  I think you nearly made Octavia die with jealousy.” I murmur.  Elsa smirks.

“That was the plan.”

“Ah.”

We continue in our dance, moving together seamlessly. 

“You’re very good.” She murmurs, not sounding surprised.  I chuckle.

“You’re not so bad yourself your majesty…out of curiosity, how **_did_** you learn to dance?” I ask, puzzled.  She gives me a sad smile.

“I was locked in a room for 13 years.  I had to have _some_ sort of hobby.” Her casual words shock me, so much so I nearly miss a step and trip. 

“What?” I whisper, horrified.  She rolls her eyes.

“Honestly Charming, Where do you think I went from the age of 8 to 21?” she snorts delicately.  I’m still reeling from shock. 

_It all makes so much sense…_

“Well Anna said you shut her out, but I didn’t know she meant _literally!”_  the thought horrifies me.  Someone with such power, such beauty, such **_life,_** locked up like a common prisoner, a palace bedroom as her cell.  She shrugs.

“I was out of control.  I nearly killed my own sister.” This new piece of information doesn’t even make me bat an eyelid compared to the stream of confidences she is heaping upon me.  She chuckles, noticing the look of abject horror and shock on my usual impassive face.

“You love me Charming, I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into.” She says sweetly.  Her words trigger a realization in my mind; I glare at her, furious.

_Is she trying to do what I think she’s trying to do?_

“Elsa, if you think you can stop my feelings for you by dredging up you’re past, you’re wrong.  Look who you’re talking to; house arrest and sororicide pale in comparison.” I huff, rolling my eyes exasperatedly.  She scowls, thoroughly caught out.

“Exactly.  You’re the…the…” she searches for a word.  I stare at her expectantly.  “The bad guy.” She finishes.  I roll my eyes again.

“So says the girl who unleashed a Snow Beast on a dozen soldiers-and me.” I retort.  She huffs, blowing a tendril of white hair away from her face.

“This really is the most stupid-” I cut her off impatiently.

“Look, Elsa, I love you, what’s the problem?!” I snap.  Her eyes widen slightly at me saying it in such a public place, she glances around furtively before coming up to meet my eyes again, glaring. 

“I’m a queen, and you’re my attempted murderer!” She snarls.  The music stops, and I drop her hand abruptly, stepping back from her silver form.  I turn to walk away, but pause, glancing at her over my shoulder. 

“You’re a bone stubborn witch.  And I’m going to delight in proving you wrong.”

**Elsa.**

I watch Hans as he storms away, his back straight and gloved hands clenched with anger.  I feel a sharp pang in my cold heart as I remember the way he just looked at me.

**_“I love you, what’s the problem?!”_ **

His green eyes, for once, had been easily readable.  Frustration, annoyance, and, to my surprise, hurt all shone within the emerald depths.  And what irritates me the most is that, even though I know how futile and unutterably stupid it would be, I feel ridiculously tempted to chase after him, ball gown and all, and tell him that I love him.  Just to make him happy.

 Just to make him smile. 

But, I remain still in the centre of the dance floor, where other couples swirl around me in a brightly coloured wheel, laughing, cheerful.  Never before, not even when I was locked in that godforsaken room, have I felt quite so alone.  Inside my clenched fists I feel something.  I open one hand, curious, to see a small snowflake inside it.  A grim reminder of my returning powers.  I feel an odd chill pass over me; I pin it down to be my returning powers when suddenly, there’s a cold hand on my shoulder.  I jump and hurriedly close my palm before I glance behind me to see the face of Adrian, his concern obvious and touching. 

“Are you alright Elsa?” he murmurs softly.  I give him a shaky smile.

“Of course.  Why wouldn’t I be!” I say brightly, my voice coming out weaker than intended.  He hesitates.

“Well.  You’re um…You’re crying.” I start in surprise, touching my face to find wetness on my cheek, and underneath my eyes.  I stare at my damp fingertips with vague astonishment.

“so I am.” I murmur, more to myself then to him.  I glance back up to his face, to find him smiling shyly.

“I’m sorry for this morning.  I just-” He breaks off.  I smile.

“It’s fine Adrian, really.  No apology needed.” I say gently.  The tension eases in his pretty face before his face lights up with mischief.

“Come with me.” He grabs my hand and tugs me through the wall of dancers, we quickly leave the ballroom, not through the main grand staircase, but a small door in the side of the opulent room, presumably for servants.  I feel my earlier melancholy disappear, and I laugh as I’m towed through the rabbit’s warren of corridors, before we stop at a relatively simple door, no ornate carvings or mouldings, just simple oak.  I glance up at Adrian, mystified.

“Adrian, what-” he cuts me off.

“Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close your eyes!” I sigh and do as he says, shutting my eyes.

“No peeking.” He murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of my ear making me jump.  I give a slightly nervous laugh as he takes the crook of my arm and gently guides me.  I hear the door open, and I’m ushered inside.  I feel him stand behind me unnervingly close, and the edgy feeling inside my stomach grows. 

“Open your eyes.” He murmurs, and I quickly do as he says, my eyes flying open.  What I see takes my breath away.

We’re in a second ballroom, much less grand and simpler then the first, only one tier and half the size.  But that’s not what I’m gasping at.

The room is filled with snow.

I feel my heart skip a beat at the familiar sight, a bout of homesickness hitting me.  It looks unutterably beautiful, the light from the large chandelier shining onto the crystalline surface, making it sparkle.  I feel Adrian fidget nervously behind me.

“It’s not too much, is it?” he asks worriedly.  I laugh, delighted before I turn around, my eyes shining.

“It’s perfect!” in the spur of the moment, I lean up and kiss his cheek.  I draw back and see his surprised expression, touchingly enchanted.  Our eyes meet, expectation palpable in the air.  I suddenly feel awkward, a modest blush staining my cheeks.  I get annoyed with myself for this reaction.

  1.  _I’m the Snow Queen for Christ sake, not Anna!  I have to pull myself together!_



“How did you even get it all in here?” I ask quickly, breaking the spell.  He shakes himself slightly before smiling smugly.

“a magician never reveals his secrets.” I roll my eyes playfully before turning back towards the room.  Unable to stop myself, I walk out into the snow, my silver gown trailing along the glittering surface, whispering like confidences.  I glance at him slyly over my shoulder before I kneel in the snow, completely disregarding my dress.  I quickly pick some up and shape it into a snowball before I quickly stand and throw it at Adrian.  It hits his chest, and he looks adorably surprised.  I laugh, not in a seductive chuckle or a polite titter, but in unashamed giggles straight from my stomach.  He glares, brushing it off his shirt front.

“That’s not fair!  I’ve never been in snow before-” he argues, crossing his arms over his chest.  At his affronted expression, I loose myself further to my helpless burst of laughter, nearly doubling over.

“Your-your face!” I laugh again, but cease when a snowball suddenly hits the stomacher of my gown.  I gasp in mock horror, glancing up at Adrian’s smug face, still leaning against the doorway.

“you started it.” I sniff playfully.

“Ladies don’t start fights…” I pause before grinning.  “But we can finish them.”

And with that, all hell breaks loose. 

Sometime later; thoroughly covered in snow, stomach aching from laughing and hair loose from its high arrangement, I collapse onto the snow on my back, lying down.  Adrian flops down beside me, both of us still giggling. 

“Best royal ball **ever**!” I exclaim; throwing my hands up in the air for emphasis.  He laughs.

“Me too.  I have to say though; this snow is going to be utter hell when it melts.” I chuckle, acknowledging the truth of it.  About half a meter deep; the snow will inevitably turn back to water, leaving Adrian with a very damp room. 

“Thanks for this Adrian.  Really.” I turn my head to look at him, our shoulders nearly touching.  He smiles, golden eyes smiling with him.

“You’re welcome Elsa.  I had fun.” I smile back at him before I turn my gaze back towards the ceiling.

“Want to hear something funny?”  He asks playfully.  I don’t turn my head.

“Sure.”

“Did you know we were betrothed once?” I start, surprised, quickly turning my head towards his.

“We were?!” he nods.

“Uh huh.  Only when we were very little you understand; you were the second choice after the Princess of Corona.” He chuckles.  I mime being insulted, raising my hand to my heart and gasping before breaking off into giggles.

“Well, Corona is preferable to the Isen, that’s for sure.  Then, when she went missing it was cancelled?” I prompt.  He nods.

“Of course.  Our parents arranged our betrothal when I was 6 and you were five; it got broken off when you were eight.” I nod, remembering that time.  When my parents had decided to hide me away from the world, any engagement I would have had would have been broken off.  I’m not that surprised really; just surprised that it was to Adrian.  _What a coincidence._

“it makes sense.” We pause.  Adrian locks hid elegant fingers on his torso.

“I was wondering… if perhaps we could…” he breaks off, touchingly awkward.  I raise myself up on an elbow, frowning.

_Is he about to-_

“if we could restore our engagement…I guess what I’m asking is-god I’m bad with things like this…if you would…um.  Marry me?”

  1.  _Yes he is._



I can only stare at him in sheer surprise.

“But you don’t love me?” somehow, that’s the only question I can force out my shocked lips.  He shrugs slightly.

 “No, but I do like you, a whole lot.  Besides, since when does love have anything to do with royal marriages?  My father **_hated_** my mother.” Despite the seemingly cold words, he does rather have a point.  For mere princesses like my sister, true love is an option, if you can find it that is.  But for Queens like me, not so much.  _But Hans…_

**_“I may actually love you…”_ **

I shake my head, the situation rendering me simple. 

 “But I’m in love with-” he cuts me off, sitting up.

 “With your assassin?  The man who is _marrying my sister?_ What you two have may be love, but it will fade, and what will be there?  The man who tried to murder you and take your kingdom.  I am **_real_** Elsa.” His last words contain distinct notes of pleading.  I stand hurriedly, looking anywhere but his gilded eyes.

“I’m…I’m sorry.  I have to go…I’ll…I’ll think about it.” And with that, I almost trip over myself in an effort to leave the room as quickly as possible.

**Hans**

Elsa runs past me quickly, oblivious to my shadowy presence next to the door, moving surprisingly fast for that dress.  A cruel smile curves my lips as I glance into the room filled with snow ( _the clever, clever bastard)_ and see Adrian sigh before standing up, eyes narrowing and fists clenching before he too makes for the door, I quickly meld back into the doorframe as he leaves the room and strides off down the corridor purposefully.  I smile smugly, but am slightly troubled.

 Elsa didn’t say no.

**Adrian**

_“well, she turned you down.  I can’t say I’m surprised darling.”_

My familiar demon resurfaces, a whiny female voice echoes through my mind.  I scowl uncharacteristically, my expression like thunder as her appearance pushes me further down the increasingly steep slope of darkness I feel myself slipping down. 

“She didn’t turn me down…she said she’d think about it.” I argue, moving through the castle like a shadow. 

_“We all know what **that** means, don’t we.  Even if she **is** stupid enough to marry you, she’ll never love you.”_

“Leave me alone mother.” I mutter, storming through the palace to one room in particular.

 _“Because  really darling, who could ever love **you**_?”

I fling open the door to the dark room, the familiar crushing smell of dead roses washing over me.  I slam it behind me, balling my fists. 

_“Why don’t you just let them go?  Steal the cure, and give it to her.  But you won’t do that, will you dear?”_

Her harsh voice runs through me, adding to the dark pressure burning at my temples.  I almost feel like I’m not in my body, like I’m watching this happen to someone else.  Like I’m watching a tall golden haired man slip the small dagger he conceals in his sleeve into his hand. 

_“And do you know why you won’t Adrian?”_

I, the golden man, walk closer to the body in the bed.  My grip on the blade grows tighter, I feel like screaming, like crying, like doing **_anything,_** but I don’t, I simply keep walking, unable to stop, like I’m not in control of my body.  My breath comes out in little patches of fog.

_“Because you’re **weak.** You know that you aren’t the golden prince, the good boy that everyone thinks you are.  I **always** knew Adrian, since you were a little boy with pleading gilded eyes, that **you,** not your sister **,** were evil.” _

Her hissed words echo through my hollow shell of a body, I watch, a silent observer inside myself as I stare down at the peaceful man, the sleeping figure who destroyed me

_Weak.  Weak.  Weak.  Weak-_

Crimson pools at the linen bedclothes above his chest, a red flower blooms, and trickles down, down, down like wine, staining, tainting.  I watch as his face grows paler, as his raspy breathing slows, and, for the first time in 5 years, the room is totally, terrifyingly silent. 

_That perfect boy is gone._


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. I have a series of apologies to make here: this story went on a bit of a hiatus (like all my fan-fictions) because as usual, life impertinently got in the way. Sorry! Very pleased to return with the second last instalment of this labour of love :)
> 
> -Ava x

 

**Hans**

I pace through the silent castle, thinking furiously about what I had seen. Adrian proposing to Elsa, her escape, her very unsure response.

She didn't say no.

_Well of course she didn't. Adrian is a perfect choice. A gentleman, an honourable, handsome and titled one at that. He really is Prince Charming. They are meant for each other…_

Besides, I'm getting married in little less than a week, to his bloody  _ **sister**_.

_But…But Elsa loves_ _**me** _ _. She said so!_

Oh god. When did I get so disgustingly vulnerable?

I roll my eyes at myself before I realise I've gone past Elsa's door and backtrack a few paces, frowning at the slit of golden light which pools underneath her door. It's at  _ **least**_ 2 in the morning, what is she still doing up? Then again, the Snow Queen seems to be a bit of an insomniac. What I find far more surprising than the light however, are the small noises issuing from behind the wood, noises that bring to mind an injured animal, tugging at what little heart strings I have. I frown again before I open the door and walk into her all too brightly lit room, glaringly illuminated, so different to her preferred state of semi gloom. I stare at the bed and my mouth drops open slightly, leaving me gaping like an idiot. Elsa is lying curled up in her ridiculously large bed, back to me, harrowing sobs issuing from her. I notice the small and weak flurry gently snowing above her onto her pale form, still in her now rumpled silver dress.

_Is she-is she crying?_

"Elsa…are you alright?" I ask, my words hopelessly inadequate. She sits bolt upright, back straight, but she doesn't turn around to face me.

"Get out Hans." Her voice is controlled, calm, but I notice the almost undetectable tremor at the end of her words. The Snow Cloud hasn't moved, and, if anything, is snowing slightly harder onto her dishevelled white hair. I cross my arms over my torso, glaring at her back.

"No. Not until you tell me what's wrong." I say forcefully, somehow compelled to make her feel better; to make her  _ **stop,**_ to see her smile that blindingly bright smile again. She gives a strangled chuckle that claws at the heart before turning her head to the side, showing me her profile.

"What  _ **isn't**_ wrong? You, me, Adrian, Octavia…" I see her eyes narrow. "Octavia." She repeats, her voice a furious hiss. She sighs sadly, her short burst of fight leaving her, shoulders slumping for the first time in…well, ever. For some reason, this is the final straw. When Elsa, Queen of Arendelle and the Isen's posture is shoddy, something is  _ **seriously**_ wrong.

"Elsa, look at me." She huffs, and I glare at her unmoving form. " _Look at me."_ I growl, and this time, she turns around on the bed, legs dangling off the edge, hands twisted in her lap, snow falling on her shoulders and eyelashes. Her face is streaked with tear marks, blue eyes sad and, for once, devoid of life. I walk over to her, sliding onto the bed in front of her.

"You, my dear Queen, are Elsa. Ruler of a great kingdom, possessed with power beyond anything ever seen before. You made a castle of ice; froze a country in an eternal winter, and then thawed it again with little more than a wave of your hand. You were locked in a room for 13 years, and had to hide yourself, and the beautiful things that you can do from everyone. You made me  _feel_ for Christ's sake! And yet, you are seriously going to let yourself be beaten by a mere blonde princess?" The small flicker of life in her azure eyes tells me I've stuck a cord. Her lips curve slightly, and she sniffles, the snow cloud slowing.

"But I don't have my full powers." She mutters defensively. I roll my eyes.

"So? Elsa, I think you have more than enough magic without you're powers to win against Octavia. Just look at me! I'm actually attempting to comfort you rather than just laugh like I would usually do. You cannot tell me that has anything to do with your Ice Magic." She gives a weak laugh, and with a slight pop, the cloud disappears. She shakes her head, freeing it of snow before wiping away the water on her face.

"Less to do with magic and more to do with the idiocy of the heart and body." She mutters playfully, some familiar sparkle in her eye. I chuckle dryly.

"Believe me Elsa; I'm as confused about it as you are. But I think that we shall have to put our…unfortunate attraction to the side for now." I say hesitantly. Elsa's head, which had been drooping slightly as she vaguely listened to me, snapped up, eyes narrowing.

"Why?" she asks petulantly. I raise an eyebrow.

"Because I'm getting married in a week." She glares, but her fury, for once, is not directed at me.

"Blonde Bitch." She snarls, determination coming back as she thought of Octavia. Unable to stop myself from stirring trouble, I reach out and tap her royal nose.

"Yes, you are." I quickly flip myself over, lying down on my back on the bed, resting my head in her silver clad lap. She rolls her eyes before punching my shoulder.

"I meant your fiancée you arrogant bastard." She chuckles.

"You can understand the mistake."

"For a prince, you have terrible manners."

"For a queen, you have a terrible sense of propriety. Being alone in a room with a  _man_ in the middle of the night…how  _ **scandalous!**_ " I imitate the town of the gossipy matrons who undoubtedly serve Elsa; I refrain from laughing at the thought of what they'd say if they knew about…us. What anyone would say if they knew about us. Which is exactly why what we have, unlike her sisters, won't end in happily ever after. I'll marry Octavia and slink back to the shadows, Elsa will go back to Arendelle, back to her sister and to whatever suitor she chooses. Probably Adrian.

"Do shut up Charming." She says pleasantly, ruffling my hair for emphasis. I bat her cold pale hands away playfully. There is silence for a second.

"Thanks though. For, you know…not being a complete prat." She mutters grudgingly. I smile overly brightly.

"Welcome." Elsa, almost unconsciously, lifts her hand to my shoulder where she fiddles with my golden epaulets, thinking. A sly smile curves my lips as a thought occurs to me.

"So, what prompted this little…outburst?" I ask innocently, knowing full well. I merely want to see if she'll tell me; how much she  _ **really**_ trusts me. Manipulative, maybe, but if  _this_ is ever going to work, then we need to count on each other. A long shot considering our history, perhaps, but after all; what's the saying Forgive and Forget for? She bites her bottom lip, hesitating.

"something…happened with Adrian." She say's vaguely. My mouth set's in a grim line at this half-truth, determined to goad her into saying the  _words._

"what happened." My flat words don't come out as a question; more of a command. She picks at my epaulets on my shoulders more, avoiding my eyes. I roll mine in exasperation before I quickly interlink my fingers with hers and bring my elbows back down on the bed, tugging her face down to my own, only a fraction apart. She huffs, glaring into my eyes with the fierceness I know and, reluctantly, love.

"Elsa." I murmur warningly. She glowers at me.

"If you  _ **must**_ know, Adrian sort of…proposed." She says pointedly. I act surprised.

"Oh really? Knowing him, I imagine it was  _disgustingly_ romantic?" I ask teasingly, searching her gaze. In truth, I  _had_ been impressed with the snow. She smiles slightly.

"Well…yes. A little." She admits. I smirk.

"Knew it." She chuckles before sliding her fingers out of the linking embrace I held them in, and sitting back up.

"So what did you say?" I ask flippantly, curious as to whether or not she'll tell the truth. She waves dismissively.

"I don't know what  _to_ say. I mean, he is perfect…" she trails off, catching onto my glare at her words. "and at least I'd be able to see you, as I'm marrying your future brother in law." She recovers smoothly. I quirk an eyebrow.

"nice save."

"I rather thought so."

"So you'll marry him?" I ask dismissively, my eyes dropping down to my hands on my chest like they were the most fascinating thing in the world. She sighs.

"Yes…no…maybe. It's complicated. Apparently we were betrothed once but it was cancelled when I was eight." I lift my gaze back up to hers.

"I know." I say simply. She frowns delicately.

"What? How?!" she demands. I smile.

"me and Adrian are the same age Elsa. I can remember it." I say pointedly. It's the truth; their betrothal was announced across the kingdoms. After all; the Isen and Elmira are two powerful kingdoms; the alliance Elsa and Adrian's marriage would have made would have been a fierce one.

"That makes sense I suppose. Can't help but wonder why I didn't know about it though." I tilt my head in her lap, staring up at her.

"when do any of us know about our betrothals? I had multiple when I was younger." She shook her head irritably.

"No, not that. Why didn't I hear about it when I was older, after the Great Thaw. It's odd." I shrug.

"not really. It was a long time ago." I remind her. She murmurs noncommittally.

"mm." we fall into silence.

"So," she says thoughtfully, "how can we defeat them?" I raise an eyebrow, amused.

"What?" I ask, pleased to see the return of the  _wickedness_ I know to be inside of the Snow Queen. She smiles predatorily.

"Oh, between the Queen and the Assassin, I think we can probably figure out a way to outsmart the two golden royals of Elmira, Don't you?"

I smile, mirroring her vicious grin.

"Absolutely."

**Later.**

I only leave some hours later, much to my surprise I realise that dawn is just beginning to break; we had been up all night talking and planning. I didn't even get to bed her, although, for once, that was the furthest thing from my mind. I rub my eyes, suddenly exhausted. Fully intending to drag myself to bed and fucking  _ **sleep,**_ I glance down the corridor before yawning, trudging off to Octavia's bedchambers. Not even the thought of the blonde princess is enough to put me off going to bed; my mind has truly been wrung out during mine and Elsa's consul of war meeting.

"A little early, isn't it?"

I tense at the calm male voice, recognising it easily. My dormant wits come flooding back to me before I turn around, plastering a smirk on my face and guarding my eyes. I raise an eyebrow at the golden haired man leaning against the wall, cloaked in shadows. I cross my hands over my torso.

"I could say the same to you Adrian." He raises an eyebrow at my lack of propriety in using his first name.

"There should be a Your Highness in there somewhere." I shrug, smiling easily.

"We're going to be brother-in-law's soon." I remind him pleasantly. He pushes himself off from the wall lazily, and I am unable to stop an eyebrow from rising at the sight of him. His sun kissed blonde hair is  _ **definitely**_ a shade lighter, and as for his skin…

_Either he is bathing in bleach, or he is spending significantly less time in the sun._

Not that it makes the bastard look any less attractive, damn him.

_My my my. What_ _**has** _ _happened here?_

"how true. And yet, it is interesting that despite your engagement to my sister, here you are, coming out of the Queen of Arendelle's room at the break of dawn…" he trailed off in his mocking contemplations, a small smile twisting his lips.

"and," he continues "I really don't think it's… _ **appropriate**_ to be in the Queen's room alone at night, do you?" he asks mock genteelly. I glare at him.

"what gives you the right to decide that?" I snap. He raises an eyebrow.

"I'm not sure how my little sister would feel about you sleeping in Elsa's room Hans. Maybe I should tell her, and we'll find out?" he asks sweetly. I force myself to relax, my scowl to ease.

"And then Octavia would stop curing the Queen. You wouldn't do that to Elsa." I say flatly. He cocks his head to the side.

"True. Alright, I'll keep this one secret for you. But don't expect it in the future." I chuckle.

"We aren't married yet Adrian. And if she wasn't going to kill Elsa if I didn't, then this entire wedding would never,  _ **ever,**_ happen." I say coolly, watching him warily as he steps in front of me, an arm's length away.

"I don't doubt it. I would feel sorry for you, if I liked you." He says dryly. I laugh outright.

"You know, for a while there I genuinely thought you were without flaws, or faults, but oh  _my,_ was I wrong. You're jealous!" he has the grace to look abashed for a second before glaring at me.

"no. I just don't think the Queen should be…fraternising with someone who tried to kill her." He say's delicately. I snort.

"When did  _ **you**_  start speaking for Elsa?"

"When did  _ **you**_ get the right to call her Elsa?" he retorts. I smile at him patronizingly.

"oh, Since we've been…shall I say, intimate." Adrian's mocking smile drops to a scowl, red pouting mouth an even  _darker_ shade of crimson.

"it doesn't matter what you two have done in the past. I am Elsa's future, and my sister is yours." He says sweetly. This time, it's my turn to glare, goaded into showing my anger.

"I guess that really depends on your point of view." He tilts his head slightly, consideringly.

"you will be a married minor prince who attempted to assassinate her. I'm the king of a great land. Who do you think makes more sense?" I raise an eyebrow at a particular word choice.

"King? Rather presumptuous of you." He gives me a winning smile, brushing past me dismissively.

"Haven't you heard? My father has passed onto the Otherworld. My coronation is in a month. Stay away from the Queen Hans…for your own good." I watch, slack jawed as he saunters away, his previous practical long legged gait changed into a leisurely swagger.

My My.

What  _has_  happened to the golden Prince Charming?

**Octavia.**

Octavia sweeps down the corridors, scattering servants in her path. She doesn't remember much about last night; she rather, she considers as the raging headache pounds in her skull, drank too much last night.  _Well, it was my engagement party after all. So, where the hell is my groom?_ She narrows her eyes; probably with that…creature. She gives a sly smile. Soon; she knows she wouldn't have to worry about her. The odd green eyed man had asked for something from the dungeons, something she didn't even know the kingdom possessed. It would all be easy, now that daddy was finally dead. Not that she really cares. After all; he has been practically dead for four years. And it's not like she has any reason to mourn him.

_Besides, black is_ _**such** _ _a dull colour._

Remarkably, things haven't changed in the palace with the kings official passing. No one is in mourning, none of the people care. They all know their king had been dead, really dead, for much longer. Suddenly, she collides with something solid, she reels back slightly, dizzy from her hangover before balling her fists and preparing to scream at whatever idiotic servant had collided with her when she realised who it was. She studies him, tilting her head.

"Adrian. Where  _have_ you been lurking? In the shadows by the looks of you." She giggles. Adrian runs a hand through his hair.

"So everyone keeps saying. Where are you off to Octave?" he asks. She smiles, pleased that she had the gift of easily lying.

"oh, just another meeting with a seamstress about my dress." She says flippantly, waving her hand. He blew his fringe out of his eyes.

"So. Father." He trails off. She studies him anew.

"You aren't wearing black." She says accusingly. He arches an eyebrow.

"Do you really think I'd mourn him? Besides, neither are you." He says pointedly. She flips her hair over her shoulder.

"Black makes me look pale. Oh, and if you think your stupid little coronation is going to upstage my wedding, then you have another think coming-" he cuts her off.

"I just saw you're future husband." He mutters. Her eyes narrow.

"Where?!" she demands petulantly. He gestures with mock surrender.

"Calm down Octave. I saw him in the gardens." Her defensive posture relaxes slightly.  _At least he isn't with that witch_. She smiles at him girlishly.

"well, must be off! Go out in the sunshine will you?" she calls over her shoulder, fluttering away like a brazenly covered red butterfly. Adrian frowns after her, watching her round the corner.

_But she just had a meeting with the dressmaker earlier this morning…_

**Elsa.**

I stare at the now faint scar underneath my breast, staring at it critically in the late morning light. It is definitely getting lighter.

_I bet it's the antidote. It does, after all, cure everything._

The thought makes me smile with relief; I would be glad to see the back of my little reminder of my Southern Isles detour.

" _ **You see Elsa, pain is a marvellous thing…**_ "

My heart sinks as I remember a chillingly empty voice; and, I know that even if my flesh heals, I will never be able to truly forget. I shake myself and slide a light blue dress over my head, the sun high in the sky after my sleep in. Considering I only had about 3 hours sleep, I feel remarkably refreshed. I refuse to even consider it might be Hans that had such an effect on me, even though, deep down, I know his gentle but still irritating teasing is the reason I feel so…alive. I distractedly lace up the back of my gown, my nimble fingers making short work of the laces even though I can't see what I'm doing.

_13 years of practise without a servant does give one remarkable abilities with clothes._

I smile bitterly as I brush my fingers through my tangled mess of white hair, nodding at myself shortly in the mirror and turning away. I pause, pondering before I wave a hand at my simple blue dress, concentrating hard.  _Come on...Just a little sparkle!_ Only a small fizz of magic leaves my fingertips, spluttering out long before it reaches the sky blue silk of my dress. I sigh; that was something at least. I sit down at the makeshift desk in the corner of the room; piled high with decrees and paperwork from Arendelle and the Isen, things have been stacking up whilst I've been away. I slide a stack towards me, and start reading, amending and signing with relish.  _I've missed this._

I have no idea how long I've been sitting down; I blearily glance up and see the sun high in the sky; almost like it's mid-afternoon. I glance at my completed work with weary pride; I had gone through all of it. I stretch my arms above my head and stand, walking to my bed and blissfully contemplating an afternoon nap when a knock on the door makes me start in surprise. I frown in confusion; who on earth could that be? Surely not Hans; we had agreed last night that he needs to spend as much time with Octavia as possible. So that leaves…

"Elsa, it's me."

Adrian.

I hesitate, remembering last night's encounter.

" _ **If we could restore our engagement…I guess what I'm asking is-god I'm bad with things like this…if you would…um. Marry me?"**_

I sigh; I really should give the poor boy an answer. Besides, he probably has the antidote.

"Come in Adrian." I call out. I turn back to my pile, unwilling to look at him after last night's fiasco. I'd behaved like a stupid little girl, something I am not prone to. He had just caught me totally by surprise.

"working again?" he asks dryly. I force a smile and stand up before turning to look at him, and am unable to prevent my eyebrows from rising slightly.

_Huh._

Not only is he paler; but his hair is definitely a lighter blonde, his eyes darker and rimmed with black, shadows underneath them. He looks similar to me when I've been working too much.

"Um. Yes. You look…different." I say hopelessly, clasping my hands together in front of me. He runs a hand through his hair, straightening out the strands and staring up at them between his fingers, comically studying the colour. Despite myself, I smile slightly.

"I know. I think it's because I've been spending more time in the sun recently, and it's bleached it." I nod; it's reasonable enough explanation. I see in his hand he has the antidote, which he remembers about with a start as he notices me looking at it.

"I almost forgot...I have the cure for you." He shakes himself slightly, walking over to me. Closer; I can see the familiar gold in his eyes; and it's oddly comforting.

"Thanks." I say automatically and take it from his hands; ignoring when my fingers brush against his. I quickly drink it; the familiar cold sensation sweeping through me in a series of pleasant tingles. I place the empty glass on the table, and stare fixedly at Adrian's shirt front. He sighs.

"Look, Elsa…about last night…" he trails off. I take pity on him, and stare up into his eyes.

"It's fine Adrian. I really should be apologising, running off like that." I say firmly. He shrugs, a half smile curving his lush red mouth.

"And I should be apologising for asking you in the first place. It seems we are both at fault Elsa." He says teasingly. I laugh.

"So it seems." We slip into silence for a beat, and Adrian fidgets slightly.

"my question still stands though, now more than ever." He mutters. I sigh; I did think I had gotten off rather easily.

"just…promise me you'll think about it." He pleads slightly. I blow a white strand away from my face.

"believe me, I will." I assure him dryly. But something he said makes me frown.

"but…why now?" I ask curiously.

"I...uh…have some news." He mutters, picking at the hem on his red sleeve. I raise an eyebrow.

"stop mauling your shirt and tell me." He smiles distractedly, his arms falling by his sides.

"Well…my father, the king, he just—died." My eyes widen at the news.

"after all these years? He's finally…" I trail off. He nods, eyes suddenly hard.

"4 of them, actually. The doctors think it was just his time." I frown slightly at the cool way he delivers this, but I remember Adrian saying he didn't have the closest relationship to his father. Still, out of a knee jerk reflex, I throw propriety to the wind and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug. He freezes, much like I would have done before the great thaw, before hesitantly wrapping his arms around my waist.

"well. This was…unexpected." He mutters into my hair. The moment is totally devoid of lust; almost awkward, but still oddly comforting. Somehow, I sense that all is forgiven from last night.

"I'm so, so sorry Adrian." I murmur into his neck. He sighs, releasing my waist and I unwind my arms from his neck.

"It's not your fault. He had been there for four years; I'd call it mercy." His words make me frown slightly again; the phrase somehow odd. However, I banish it.

"I should probably curtsey, shouldn't I?" I ask teasingly. He laughs.

"That won't be necessary, thank you."

"So, when are you being crowned?" I ask after a beat of silence. He shrugs.

"A month, maybe two." I smile gently at his obvious nervousness, remembering my own coronation.

"I remember I felt more like I was going to my execution then my crowning." I say reassuringly. He shoots me an anxious smile.

"I just don't want to…" he trails off. I smile bitterly.

"Disappoint anyone." I finish. He looks at me with mild surprise before sighing.

"Exactly." I decide to alleviate the sombre mood, I link arms with him, making him glance down in surprise.

"come on Your Highness. You haven't even begun to show me you're kingdom yet!" I start to drag him towards the door. He laughs.

"So I haven't." he opens the door with his free hand, gesturing to it mock formally.

"Shall we?" I curtsey, amused.

"we shall."

_He waits quietly, patiently. Shrouded in gloom, he stands out no more than a mere shadow against the brightly coloured people of Elmira. He slips through the crowds easily; he is in no rush. Suddenly, he hears her. A bright tinkling laugh, and a masculine chuckle. He scans the mob, watching. A glimpse of platinum, a sky blue dress. He stares at the man next to her with interest; not an auburn prince, but an unfamiliar ash blonde man. Whore. She drags him through the bustling square, hand catching up her skirts, her ruby lips part in laughter. A streak of blue and white, pale skin shining and blue eyes singing, glowing. She brushes past him; oblivious. He could have reached out and touched her; taken her then, but it was not time. He needs everything to be perfect for the white haired queen; and so, he watches her slip away for the second time, blonde man in tow. She disappears into the crowd, and he turns away. Soon Elsa. Soon._


End file.
